Raining
by wickedsistah1024
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is the hottest new sensation in Japan with a well-kept secret: having a wife. How does Rukia handle being his well-kept secret? IchiRuki AU
1. Chapter 1

I am finally, officially back to writing! Please brace yourselves for a looong A/N. But read it, it's kinda important.

A/N: This is an experimental chapter. If you've read my latest completed fic, **Wordless**, you know that there is an idea for a new fic that has been bugging my mind lately, and that idea is _THIS_. However, I have another story that I've written sooo long ago (before my year-long hiatus), and I will have that released soon as well. Here's the deal. I have school in a week's time, and I CAN'T handle writing two fics at the same time. You, as my readers, have the power to choose which fic deserves to be continued, and which to be dropped. After you've read this, please read the other one I have posted, entitled **Motivations**.

This story has been inspired by the Korean Drama from long ago, Full House. This is NOT a retelling of the story, however. There are just a few concepts that will be used in here.

**This is the first time I'm putting a song in a fic**, and I used to not listen to the authors when they say it's better to play a suggested song while reading a fic. However, I do suggest that you go search for the Japanese song **"Raining" **by** FT Island** right now, because it plays quite a role in this story. Please, just listen to it once, especially when the part comes up where it is to be performed.

Forgive the grammar and spelling errors, English isn't my mother tongue. And I do not have a beta.

This is a prologue-ish chapter, so I apologize if it bores you to death.

**Disclaimer:** Bleach and Full House is not mine. "Rain" is the stage name of the actor Jung Ji-Hoon who played the lead role in Full House. Raining is a song/album of a Korean rock band, FT Island.

* * *

Mortarboards littered the air as the new graduates of Karakura High School cheered and basked in the glow of the recently concluded commencement exercises. Everyone was busy taking pictures—souvenirs to take with them as they part from their school—or hugging the friends they've spent the last few years with, as they faced the threats of impending separation. Amidst the raucous laughter and yells of victory, two figures stood smiling serenely at each other as they held hands.

"Congratulations," the raven-haired girl, Ukitake Rukia, said to her companion.

"Aa," Kurosaki Ichigo replied as he scratched his head. "Hey, will you...come with me for a second?" He tugged at her hand and walked through the crowd, absentmindedly waving at people who threw smiles their way. He caught his father's eyes as Kurosaki Isshin wiggled his brows suggestively. The older man opened his mouth to shout what Ichigo feared would cause both of them unneeded embarrassment, before one of his younger sisters, Karin, shut the bearded man up by hitting him square in the jaw with her fist. Isshin cringed against his daughter's closed hand and gave Ichigo a pained thumb up. Yuzu, Karin's twin sister, smiled warmly with a look of approval on her face as Ichigo and Rukia finally made it past the sea of people to a secluded area of the school.

Rukia glanced around the empty hallways before looking back questioningly at the orange-headed boy, now man. There was a proud glint in her eyes as she stared at the 18-year-old man who has helped her so much in life.

Having grown up in an orphanage after being abandoned by her family as a baby, Rukia had a hard time dealing with life. She was let out at the tender age of 12 and learned to fend for herself by doing odd jobs and gathering enough money to send herself to the cheapest school in town.

With no one to look after her, she became prone to overworking herself. It wasn't until one stormy night, at the age of 15 and a couple of weeks before freshman year started, did Rukia's life take an entirely different turn.

Because it was then, in the middle of the blinding rain, when she thought there was no hope for her and when she was on the verge of losing consciousness, did the first ray of light shine through her darkened skies.

No, it wasn't Ichigo. The orange-haired kid didn't meet her until later, when she was brought to the Kurosaki clinic, barely conscious and cold from being in the rain for so long. What changed her life at that moment years ago was the realization that kindness indeed existed in the world that had been nothing but cruel on her. Having been brought to a place of healing by a person who barely knew her was proof enough of that.

In retrospect, Rukia thought it would've been a whole lot sweeter had it been Ichigo who found her on the street that day and helped her. But life isn't always the fairytale one hopes it to be. For her, it was enough that through this kind-hearted person, she met this boy, now man, who gave her his heart, without even expecting hers in return.

But she gave it to the orange-headed man anyway, soon after she met him, taking care of her needs with genuine concern beneath the scowl on his face as she laid on their clinic bed, weak and shivering.

She remembered staring at his hair the first time, comparing it to the sun as the rain continued to pour outside. It wasn't until the kind-hearted man came into view that she took her gaze away from the brightest thing she had ever seen in her dreary life.

Rukia owed everything she now was to the Kurosaki family—to Ichigo and to the kind-hearted man, the man who ran the clinic she was kept safe and warm in. The man known as Kurosaki Isshin.

As she thought of the last few moments of recently held their high school graduation, Rukia couldn't help but smile as she silently thanked the gods watching over her for bringing the Kurosaki family into her life. For feeding her, clothing her, sending her to school...for accepting her into their family. For believing in her.

And most especially, for giving her the man with the bright orange hair and intense amber eyes, Ichigo.

"Uh, Rukia? Are you there?" Ichigo snapped his fingers in front of her face, drawing her out of trance.

Rukia blinked a couple of times before frowning. "Of course idiot. You see me, don't you?" A statement that might have been offensive to someone else was normal playful banter between the two. Ichigo's eyes would usually twitch in annoyance at that, before giving her an equally caustic response.

"Uh...yeah, I guess." Oh, but not today.

Rukia's brows rose in curiosity as she studied Ichigo's nervous stance. Sure, he was scowling like usual, but his eyes seemed not to see what it was being directed at. It was as if he had an ongoing mental conversation...like he was debating with himself in his head. Odd. Ichigo was a fairly confident and intimidating person to most. It was very disconcerting to see him fidgety like this.

"Oh idiot! Snap out of it!" Rukia said, trying to get him together.

It seemed to work, if only a little, as he jerked his head and blinked. "Well uh...listen, just listen to me. And don't interrupt me, okay midget?" There was a sharp jab directed at his stomach courtesy of Rukia's elbow, but she remained quiet.

"Okay...you, uhh, know we've been together for a long time now. And...you live in the same house anyway...so...gah! How do they make it sound so easy in movies?" He scowled further before heaving a sigh and staring at her straight in the eyes.

"Marry me."

The world ceased to be for Rukia with that statement—statement, not question—as her mind tried to wrap itself around the ridiculously foreign concept. Ichigo...marriage...family.

She opened her mouth but found herself uncertain of what to say. Finally, she blurted out, "Aren't we...aren't we too young?"

"We're eighteen. We can live without adult supervision if we want to. And we're going to college soon." Ichigo kept a strong façade, but was truly cracking on the inside at the apparent refusal.

Thoughts of the future zoomed past Rukia's mind. As she looked on intently, she realized that there was one thing that was common to all of them.

Ichigo stood by her side.

She blinked one more time to rid herself of the surfacing doubts before finally smiling softly at him. "Then yes."

It was, in no way, similar to the romance movies they've watched, or to the shōjo manga she loved to read. There were no dim lights, candles, flowers, balloons or banners. But as he knelt down in front of her—stubborn, hard-headed, brash Ichigo—putting on her finger a small white gold band with a tiny diamond in its middle, Rukia couldn't help but think it couldn't have been any sweeter for her.

For they were Rukia and Ichigo, not characters in a sappy fairytale. It may not have been as romantic as most girls dreamt of at least once in their lives, but the flaws of it reminded them that they were human, and it was the most real thing for the both of them.

* * *

Kurosaki Rukia opened her pink umbrella as she slipped out of the apartment complex. She hated going out when it was raining, but she had no choice because their supplies were running low.

Their marriage took place two weeks after their graduation. Apparently, Isshin, Yuzu and Karin had been helping Ichigo out with the planning and most of the details of the simple wedding had been taken care of by the time he proposed to her.

It was a fairly small gathering, with only a few friends and Ichigo's family present. There had been conflicts on who would walk Rukia down the aisle, for it would not look good to the public if Isshin took his _third daughter_ to the altar where his only son stood. Rukia finally decided to call upon the man who took care of her in the orphanage, the man who let her use his last name so she could have an identity of her own: Ukitake Jūshirō.

The event had gone as smoothly as they hoped. It was the happiest day in the couple's young lives, more so when Isshin brought out his gift for the newlywed—a set of keys to an apartment he had paid for with six months' worth of rent, and offered to pay for until their college graduation. The couple thanked him profusely, but refused to let him shoulder any more of the rent. They both planned on working while in college anyway, so might as well pay for the rent themselves. Besides, Isshin had done so much for them.

Rukia smiled as she finally reached the small grocery store. She had taken no more than a step inside the tiny shop when the creepy and loud owner assaulted her. Or welcomed her warmly, depending on the point of view taken.

"Rukia-san! How nice to see you on this cold, wet day! It has been so lonely in here, and this handsome businessman could sure use some company." Urahara Kisuke waved his trademark fan as he grinned mischievously at the petite woman.

"Shut up, Urahara," was all Rukia said as she scanned the shelves for the items she needed to purchase. She finished rather quickly, and she had a basketful of groceries brought to the counter to have them rung up.

Soon, she was walking outside, a plastic bag in one hand, her umbrella in the other. She trudged at a slow pace, as the rain had finally let up a little and was nothing more than a slight drizzle. She passed by random people, neighbors, cars, stray cats, stores...and her eyes drifted towards a particular poster pasted on a lamp post. A rather big, colorful poster pasted on the lamp post.

A...song-writing competition? In Karakura-chō?

Rukia slowly made her way to the poster and carefully read the details. Beside it was a big plastic envelope where many entries had been placed. She blinked slowly before hastily running all the way home.

She had an entry to prepare.

* * *

Ichigo opened the door to their apartment, and sighed happily as he smelled the telltale signs of hot and creamy mushroom soup. Nothing like good ol' Campbell's after getting soaked in the rain. "Oi, I'm home."

There were footsteps running towards his direction, and he looked up from removing his shoes to find his wife standing by the entrance to their kitchen, smiling sweetly at him. "Welcome home."

Ichigo suspiciously scrutinized his wife's features. There was a glint in her eyes that belied the smile on her lips.

Rukia ran to him and gave him a quick kiss before pulling away, much to his dismay, and dragging him into the kitchen. She was discreetly trying to dispel the obvious suspicion gnawing him. She knew Ichigo enough to realize he was trying to read through her, and was probably wondering what kind of trouble she had been up to while he was at work.

"So...how's the clinic?" she asked as she ladled some soup into his bowl.

"Eh, fine. So many kids running around with scratches on the knees or elbows or somewhere else due to slipping on the wet ground," he answered, suspicion growing by the minute.

"Hmnn. At least you didn't have a hard day. The coffee shop was closed for renovations today, and I didn't even know. I went there earlier, uniform and all, only to be sent home." She sat down on the chair opposite his and slowly spooned her soup.

There was a deep sigh audible in the quiet kitchen.

"Fine. You win. What is it?" Ichigo sat back against his chair's backrest as he stared at his now grinning wife. It was like a game to her, teasing him to his breaking point—in more ways than one.

"Guess what? There's this competition being held for Karakura Day. And there's this big cash prize," she relayed with almost palpable excitement.

Ichigo raised an orange brow. "What kind of—oh gods, don't tell me it's a short story-writing competition. Rukia, you know I love you and all, but seriously, I doubt your latest story, Chappy and the Carrot factory, would make it. And don't give me that look! I'm just saving you from future heartache."

It was no secret that Rukia was an aspiring writer, creating all works of literature from poems, to fanfiction, to original short stories, to novels. But it was a known fact that as long as she insisted on writing about her favorite rabbit of all time, Chappy (the name she gave her plushy—her only toy as a child—that Ukitake gave her on her 5th birthday), there shall never be a future for her.

Rukia puffed her cheek in indignation as she glared at her husband. "You'll see one day, I'll be able to publish my own book. Just you wait, Kurosaki. Anyway," her previously forgotten excitement came back full force. "It isn't a story-writing competition. It's actually a song-writing competition, where the contestants are supposed to submit an original composition and perform it on Karakura Day," she finished with a proud smile.

"You didn't." Ichigo was now staring wide-eyed at his wife.

She raised a challenging brow in return. "As a matter of fact, I did."

"No, no. No, Rukia! I refuse to take part in that silly contest! No, and there is absolutely nothing you can do to change my mind." He stubbornly shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked away with a fierce scowl in a gesture of defiance.

"Come on, Ichigo! It's just a one-time thing! Besides, you know you love performing." Rukia stared wistfully at the guitar and piano sitting quietly, unused, in a corner of their home. Two of the very few items of importance in their apartment.

Ichigo heard the sad note in his wife's voice and turned to eye her, his scowl softening.

"And...there's a really big cash prize, and I thought...well, we can use it to pay for the rent...so that your dad wouldn't have to worry about us. School's starting soon, and I can no longer hold on to my job at the café. And I'm not sure I'll get that job at the library."

Being independent was a liberating thing for Ichigo, not having to endure his father's surprise morning attacks, and basically standing on his own feet. However, he wouldn't deny that it was hard living life on his own. Both of them had to work to pay for their bills and food. Rukia had been working for the café since she was 12, but would soon have to give it up due to its distance from the local college they were attending. She applied for an opening as a library assistant just a few days ago, and was waiting for their call. He, on the other hand, had no luck finding such jobs. People were reluctant to hire him, because his orange hair gave him the aura of a troublesome punk. He finally settled on being Isshin's fulltime assistant in the clinic, which somehow cut down the whole independence thing for him. He knew however that despite the money they were now earning, they would run short sooner or later, especially with school looming ahead. And like his wife, he didn't want to burden his father anymore than he already had.

Ichigo sighed as he reached for her hands across the table. "Fine."

Rukia stared at him in slight disbelief. "Really?"

He smiled as he gently stroked her palms with his thumbs. "Yeah."

Rukia snatched her hands abruptly, and stood up with a smile. She walked to his side of the table and launched herself at her husband. "Thank you, Ichigo."

Soup forgotten on the table, Ichigo held Rukia in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Sure."

"Ichigo?" Rukia's voice was muffled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Hmnn?"

"You've gotta practice your piece soon. I've already signed you up and submitted your entry." She lifted her head with a small grin.

"What? What did you submit? Oh gods, no...not THAT, Rukia!" Ichigo groaned. He was fairly certain that she submitted the first ever song he wrote for her back in high school. It was mortifying when she told everyone how sweet he was, writing such a poetic piece for her. See, Ichigo was a badass in high school. And writing songs for his girlfriend was so_ not _badass.

"Why, my favorite, of course! The one you wrote for me!"

And that sealed his fate.

* * *

Ichimaru Gin slammed his office door as he entered. The words of his boss from the recently held meeting kept replaying in his head.

"Your label has been consistently dropping in sales, Ichimaru. For the past three years, you've had more costs incurred compared to all the profit you've gained since you started GIE seven years ago." This was his superior, the vice-president for entertainment of Nippon TV. Sure, Gin was a big name in the industry. But even big names have bosses to please.

Ichimaru Gin was a very famous producer and talent manager that has made several names popular in Japan and in Asia. He was president of his very own label, Gin Ichimaru Entertainment (GIE), which was under the biggest broadcasting network in Japan, Nippon TV. He was known to have a keen eye for talent and chose only the cream of the crop.

Without anyone knowing why, the past three years hadn't been good on him. His new artists were mediocre, one-hit wonders, or didn't appeal to the people at all.

He had been spotted recently lurking in the corners of popular talent shows searching for potential stars and recruiting them, only to have their records feasted on by flies.

And now, after a three-year drought, the higher-ups of Nippon TV finally gave him an ultimatum.

"You have six months, Ichimaru, no more."

Damn them all to hell! How was he supposed to find someone who can be famous in six months, foregoing the training and workshops, the adjustment and conditioning?

Gin slowly opened his blue eyes as he sat solemnly by his desk, his fingers intertwined under his chin. They wanted him removed from position? Fine! He would recruit the first person he'd find who shows the littlest amount of talent, and then shame Nippon TV.

* * *

Karakura Day finally came.

The whole town was filled with joyous people gamely mingling with each other—friends, neighbors, strangers, it mattered little.

The houses and several commercial establishments were decorated in the spirit of the holiday.

And as the day neared its close, the people gathered in the Karakura Central Plaza where the highly-anticipated culmination would take place.

It was the first time the town ever held a song-writing competition. But no one saw why they shouldn't, when they believed Karakura was blessed with many talented individuals, some of which had been showcased in Nihonjin Idol and Japan's Got Talent, though none bagged home the title.

People cheered enthusiastically as the town's mayor climbed up the stage and gave his speech.

Ichigo peered nervously through the curtain from the backstage at the large crowd that gathered to watch the competition. He silently cursed his wife for making him do this. His eyes swept over the people trying to locate the aforementioned woman and found her sitting close to the stage with a large smile on her face. Beside her was his family, and he silently cursed more when he saw his dad holding a large banner for him, bearing his complete name AND picture with the English words "Kick Ass!" below it. He glared at his father's attempt to be cool. They might even get disqualified for using the A-word.

He sighed in resignation as he looked over his shoulder at the other competitors. Some looked nervous, some looked bored. Others were practicing while a few prayed for guidance.

Ichigo closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He could do this. He _would_ do this. And after tonight, no more.

* * *

Rukia clapped in sync with the crowd as contestant number 12 exited the stage. The guy was a good one, and his upbeat tune encouraged the audience to dance a little. She watched anxiously as the lights started to grow dim in preparation for the next act. Contestant number 13 entered the dark stage where a black piano now stood. The man shrouded in shadows crossed the stage in four strides and sat quietly by the piano.

Rukia smiled solemnly as she made out her husband's form running his hands gently over the piano keys, no doubt reminiscing the old days when he used to play, before finally hitting the first few notes of his song. Their song.

Halfway into the opening bars, the light suddenly glowed bright blue, illuminating the pianist who wore a crisp white suit as the band that accompanied him started playing in tune with the piano.

Rukia closed her eyes as Ichigo's voice filled the air.

kimi ga ita keshiki wa nukumori to yasuragi irodori  
hajimete shitta koi no kaori ga shita

_You colored the landscape with warmth and tranquility__  
__And for the first time, I knew the scent of love_

She unconsciously swayed from side to side with a contented smile on her lovely face.

mabushii hizashi abite nani mo osorezu ni ita keredo  
sono akarusa wa kage wo mienakushita

_Bathed in radiant sunlight, nothing could make me fear__  
__But that brightness made shadows invisible_

Amethyst eyes opened and focused on the man by the piano as she heard his voice grow stronger with each passing line.

boku wa donna tsuyosa de kimi no te wo  
nigirishimeta nara  
hoka no dareka wo sonzai nante  
nakushite shimaeta no kana

_If I tightly held your hand__  
__With what kind of strength__  
__Things like those other people__  
__Might have been gone for good_

In the sea of people where everyone was just a face, amethyst met amber.

yamanai ame ni nurenai you ni  
kata wo yoseatta kaerimichi  
kimi ga kieta are kara boku ni  
ima mo furitsuzukeru ame

_Like not getting wet in the unending rain__  
__Shoulder pressed to the way home__  
__From that place you disappeared__  
__Even now, the rain keeps falling on me_

And Rukia knew, Ichigo sang just for her.

* * *

Ichimaru Gin sat amongst the crowd as they silently waved their hands in the air in time with the beat of the song playing at the moment.

His newest talent was invited to perform for a special holiday in this small town called Karakura. He frowned a little in distaste as he thought of what his talents were now worth. Just small town shows?

He noticed just how utterly captivated everyone was and opened his blue eyes to regard the small figure on the stage. He placed his hand inside his coat pocket and retracted it a second later holding a rectangular card with his name and contact information. Above which was written, bold and black, Gin Ichimaru Entertainment.

* * *

The raven-haired woman ran the few steps needed to get to where her orange-haired husband stood. Ichigo opened his arms happily to hold his wife as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, Ichigo." At that moment, thoughts of winning or losing mattered little to Rukia. To know that Ichigo sang for her was enough of a prize that no amount of money can measure to.

"Idiot."

The crowd around them was cheering loudly for the contestant currently performing on the stage, but the couple didn't care. They were actually just about ready to head home, even without hearing the results.

A small cough that miraculously reached their ears despite the hubbub caused them to look at the man who stood watching their rather intimate moment.

Amethyst eyes grew wide as she stared at the tall, lean man with silver hair and slit eyes who smiled at them from ear to ear. Of course she knew who he was. Who wouldn't recognize the famous producer?

"Yes?" Ichigo's voice broke her out of her reverie. Rukia looked at him in astonishment as he rudely asked the _stranger_ what he wanted.

"Ichigo!" This was followed by a swift kick on the shin.

"Ow! What's your problem, midget?" Ichigo glared at his wife as he rubbed his abused knee. He was rather annoyed that their moment was interrupted by this strange man.

The _stranger_ kept on watching with amusement. Sick amusement, if Rukia might add.

"Don't you know who he is?" Rukia hissed from the corner of her mouth.

Ichigo looked at the man from head to toe. He was wearing designer clothes, that much was obvious; and from the way he carried himself, he was from the higher class of the society.

But no, Ichigo didn't know him.

"Uhh…" was his intelligent reply.

"That's okay, Ichigo-san, is it?" the man interrupted as he stretched his hand towards the couple, offering his business card.

Ichigo reluctantly took the piece of paper and scrutinized its contents.

And that was when it hit him, when the words Gin, Ichimaru and Entertainment stared back at him from the tiny card.

GIE. Music. Records.

Ichigo blinked at the man, asking without words what this meant.

Gin's smile widened, if at all possible. "I see that you are a man of great talent. I am interested in what else you have to offer. Why don't you come to my office some time and let's talk over coffee?"

The orange-haired man stood dumbfounded as his wife grinned with glee beside him, pride apparent in her twinkling eyes.

And this was how a star was discovered.

A star that would soon take Asia _by storm_.

A star that will be soon known to all as Rain.

* * *

Okay, if it isn't obvious, well I used the stage name Rain because I find it quite ironic to be used by someone who actually had bad memories in the rain. See, he was named Rain, and he'll take Asia by storm. How fitting. XD Wait, does this mean he'll have another set of bad memories as Rain? We'll find out…or not. Please keep an eye out for my next story, and then tell me which I should work on. Review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! Have a good day! :D

**PLEASE VOTE ON THE POLL IN MY PROFILE. =)**


	2. Chapter 2

I have been putting off writing this for the past few weeks because I was unsure whether or not it would be the chosen fic by the majority. To be completely honest with you, I am still unsure which to continue. My poll says I should write Motivations and drop this one, but based on the three-week analysis I did, this fic has more reviews, more alerts, more faves, and more hits. So here I am, writing a new chapter, hoping it'd help you guys decide.

This chapter is filler-ish…I think, and it's the type of chapter that usually happens after the storm…or before. Hoho.

Anyways, I merely aimed to show the deep connection that the married couple has despite having tied the knot at such a young age. I hope you like it.

Slight OOC-ness is there somewhere. Forgive me of my grammar sucked—English isn't my mother tongue, and no, I still don't have a beta.

**Disclaimer:** Bleach isn't mine. Arashi is a popular Japanese boy group, and isn't mine as well (though I'd certainly be more than willing to own MatsuJun XD).

I have never been to Tokyo and not know much about the place, except that they have a tower (how helpful XD), so if someone's willing to lend me some time so I may ask questions, it would be GREATLY appreciated. As of now, I'm making everything up. Sorry.

* * *

**Raining**

**

* * *

**

Ichigo didn't exactly understand what was going on.

One day, he—begrudgingly, as his dear wife promised him physical pain had he not complied—went to the head office of Gin Ichimaru Entertainment based in Tokyo. The next, he was thrust inside photo studios, recording studios, salons doing photo shoot after recording after makeover. Again and again.

As he stood in front of the camera at that very moment, glaring back at the bright light that seemed hellbent on blinding him—or outshining his orange hair—he remembered his talk with GIE president Ichimaru Gin, that day so long ago.

"Ichigo-kun, ya are boy of so many talents, ya seemed almost like a creepy kid when we first met on Karakura Day. However, being in the business requires more than just raw talent. We shall have to…put ya in a test of sorts, just to see how good ya'll fare in the field."

Three months had soon passed and Ichigo found himself coming to Tokyo more and more often as Ichimaru seemed to have need of him all the damn time.

He even missed the start of classes, but Rukia told him to just forget about it for he could always catch up in the future, if this endeavor proved to be a failure. And thus, for three months, Ichigo underwent several physical changes, rigorous workshops, exhausting photo shoots and endless recordings.

His wife had been really proud of him when he returned from Ichimaru's office weeks after his very first visit. His song had been steadily rising in the free downloads list of iTunes, and his videos uploaded in YouTube had just reached a million hits. And he hasn't been officially launched by GIE yet.

There just might be something in store for him in this.

* * *

Ichigo sat nervously inside the dressing room. His eyes glanced around his surroundings—the pale, cream walls, the various mirrors, the lights, the chairs. On one corner was a rack of several different dresses, suits and other clothing materials; on the tables were scattered different cosmetics, from powder, to lip gloss, to eyeliners…not that he knew anything about it, mind you.

He glanced at the clock hanging above the door and realized it had only been two minutes since he last looked. It made him antsier and he couldn't decide whether he wanted time to move fast or freeze. In about 45 minutes, he'd be on the stage to perform for the very first time in front of national television.

It wasn't a big thing, as Ichimaru himself had told him a few days before. He had just been quite lucky to snatch a good couple of minutes of airtime in the show Ichigo would be performing on.

"It just so happened that Arashi canceled on them for a prior commitment their handler missed on their rather busy schedule, and they had to find last minute replacements. I volunteered you. It'd be a good experience, so don't screw up too much," Gin had explained to Ichigo with a huge grin and his famous slit eyes.

The orange-haired man indeed hoped he wouldn't make a mess. Even if this performance wasn't his official launch, it could make or break him. He wondered if his family was watching at that moment in their home, waiting for him to come out. Heh, most probably. He chanced another look at the clock and saw that a good…35 seconds, 36, 37, had passed.

It was about 6:20 pm, and he wondered if his wife was getting ready to leave school. According to her schedule that he had memorized by heart, her last class on Wednesdays ended at 6:30 pm, and she should be home in ten minutes, tops. He absently fingered his cell phone and turned it over and over on the table where it rested, contemplating the pro's and con's of calling his wife to remind her to watch the show. He knew that the first thing on Rukia's mind as she comes home from school was rest. How many times in the past few weeks had he come home from photo shoots to find her out like a light on their couch? He couldn't keep track of the count.

He sighed once more and checked the time. 6:25 pm. Rukia was probably out of school since her professors always left at least 10 minutes before class, according to her stories. He caught his phone in his hand and his eyes softened at the girly rabbit charm hanging on it.

It had been a gift from Rukia, about two weeks ago. She reasoned that he would probably need it because he'd be away from home often. It was a cheap model, not like those touch screen phones that was today's hype. But he absolutely loved it, because he knew how much it could have cost Rukia, considering she bought one for herself, too—identical to his, right down to the rabbit charm that he first detested so much—so he could call her anytime.

He flipped it open and pressed the call button twice, first to summon the recent calls list, second to actually call the name on top of the list. He listened to the ringing a few times, his nerves fraying at every passing second.

"Ichigo?"

That one word calmed him a whole lot, and he let out a breath he had been unconsciously holding. He smiled softly as he stared at the bland walls of the room with much more appreciation than before.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Suddenly, Rukia sounded frantic. "Wait, your performance…is it over?"

Ichigo's smile faltered a little, thinking she only remembered his scheduled appearance on national television because he called. "No, baka. Aren't you watching? The contestants of Japanese Idol are still singing. Wait, aren't you home yet?"

And that was when he heard the sound of harsh rain in the background.

"Rukia? Is it raining in Karakura?" He remembered that the morning's weather forecast had been sunny for Karakura-chō. Well it wasn't as if it was the first time the weatherman would be wrong. "Did you bring an umbrella?" His brows were furrowed in concern.

"Uh…no…to both questions," Rukia answered cautiously. "But I'm fine!" she said before Ichigo can start a rant. "I'll be home soon."

There was silence on both ends, before Ichigo's serious voice floated through the airwaves. "Where are you?"

Rukia's gulp was audible even to Ichigo through the phone. It was a sure sign that Rukia was about to confess something she was sure would piss Ichigo off. "I'm in…Tokyo."

Ichigo's scowl got deeper. In Tokyo? At this time? It would take at least an hour of travel from Karakura to Tokyo. Shouldn't she be at school an hour ago? He sputtered, "W-what? What the hell are you doing here in Tokyo? And skipping school at that!"

Ichigo expected a screamfest, with Rukia defending her actions. But his ears were met with a heavy sigh. One that meant defeat.

"I…wanted to see you sing."

Ichigo's eyes immediately softened as his fist that had been resting on his leg tightened. She skipped class and braved through a city she barely knew, all because she wanted to be there for a very important event in his life.

And the silence that ensued reminded him of two things: one, the heavy rain that continued to pour—apparently in Tokyo, and two, that Rukia didn't have an umbrella with her.

"Where are you?" he asked again.

"I told you, I'm in Tokyo—" Rukia repeated in exasperation.

"No, no. I mean where in Tokyo are you?" Ichigo's voice took on a distraught tone.

"Uhmm…I'm in a bus stop. I was supposed to head straight there, but the rain fell so hard. I'm sorry Ichigo…I might miss your—"

"What do you see, from where you're standing?"

He heard some shifting as he assumed Rukia surveyed her surroundings. "Well, buildings…lots and lots of them. And the Tokyo Tower in the distance—"

"Look to your right. Do you see a really tall building with a large satellite dish above?" He could only imagine her distaste at being interrupted again, as she squinted her eyes to look for the said structure.

"Yes…Yes, I think I see it. It's huge Ichigo! Is that Nippon TV? I think I'm about a few blocks—"

"Great. Stay there. Don't move an inch."

And the line went dead.

Ichigo looked at the clock. His performance was set around 7 pm. It was a quarter before that. He cursed under his breath as he looked around the room for an umbrella. From what Rukia had said, he could deduce that she was at the nearest bus station from Nippon TV, which was about a five-minute walk from the broadcasting station.

His eyes landed on a small black umbrella—the only umbrella in the room—and mentally asked the owner of the said object for permission to use it. He snatched it from its peaceful rest in the corner of the room before opening the door.

And then he ran.

He knew Ichimaru would be after his head for this, especially if he wouldn't be able to make it back in time for his performance. He slipped past guards and marshals and soon reached the revolving glass doors of the station.

The bus stop was about a five-minute walk from there. That was, if it wasn't raining.

He cursed again, this time at the rain. He really hated it.

* * *

Rukia looked at her phone as Ichigo hang up on her. She glared at the mobile device and cursed her husband mentally in all the languages she knew. 'That idiot needs to learn some manners,' she seethed.

She shivered a bit as she looked around again. The rain hadn't let up. If any, it fell harder, blurring everything from her line of vision. She rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to keep warm. She once again cursed in her head, now at the weatherman, for telling her that Karakura-chō would be sunny, resulting in her wearing a thin sundress. Never mind that she wasn't even in Karakura.

She sighed in annoyance and sat down on the bench beneath the bus stop.

Only to realize it was wet, and now her skirt soaked the water up.

"Damn!"

She stood up abruptly and held her skirt in one hand, trying to squeeze as much water out as she could. No use trying to stay dry now. She looked at the book on her other hand, one she had just purchased two days prior for a major class. It had cost her a fortune, but it was required by her professor. She stared long and hard at the hardbound book whose elegant silver letters seemed to mock her, before closing her eyes and putting it above her head. Finally, she glanced at the direction of the building with the large dish.

And then she ran.

* * *

He jumped on puddles as he ran without care. He had long gone past caring for his expensive outfit—one that Ichimaru provided—which was now a little wet from the rain. He silently thanked Gin for making him wear a three-piece suit, for the outermost coat kept him a little dry and warm. The rain seemed to have poured harder the moment he stepped out of the building. Dammit, the rain hated him too, apparently.

Ichigo continued towards his destination despite the blinding rain, turning on the right corners thanks to his eidetic memory. He was halfway there, he knew, and he was panting heavily from the extra exertion it took to run fast when it was raining hard.

He had no moment to spare though, so he simply glanced at the area to reassure himself that he was indeed on the right track, before running at full speed again.

And as he turned another corner, he felt a sharp jab in his upper arm. It felt like someone's elbow, and it was enough to turn his attention towards the rapidly retreating form that just passed him. He watched as the tiny figure—undoubtedly a woman, from all the curves that showed through the thin, wet dress she wore—stopped a few paces away from him, as if having just realized something. She suddenly whirled around, and stared at him with wide, familiar, amethyst eyes.

"Ichigo!"

In a second, he was there with her, shielding her small, fragile body from the relentless outpour with his tiny umbrella. He looked her up and down, from the end of her toes to the very last wet strand of hair on her head, where her two hands still held a book over. He knitted his brows at her current state, more so when he saw the book she used to cover herself, probably ruined now.

All of that for him.

And he couldn't resist the urge to kiss her and envelope her in his warmth. So he leaned down and passionately captured her lips in his, as he slowly maneuvered his suit off his body and draped it around his wife's tiny shoulders, all without breaking their connection.

"Baka," the both of them said at the same time.

"What are you doing here?" She asked with a reproachful tone, but her soft eyes that stared at his conveyed different emotions. Relief and joy among other things.

"I needed to pick my wife up so she could watch me perform," he replied as the thumb on his hand that wasn't holding the umbrella caressed her cold cheek. "So, are you ready to watch me?"

Rukia smiled gently and leaned her face into the warmth of his hand. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

And as he looked at her wet, shivering form and ruined book, Ichigo wholeheartedly believed that.

* * *

Ichimaru Gin frowned as he stared at the empty dressing room. Where the hell was that brat? He wouldn't allow this orange-haired punk to shame him before the kid could even be of use.

In reality, Gin saw Ichigo as a mediocre talent, one who had the potential to make it, but an even bigger chance to fail. It didn't matter to him, as long as he could make the kid rise first before bringing him down with Nippon TV. But the kid's unpredictable nature proved to be a problem in putting Kurosaki Ichigo on leash.

Just now, his men had informed him of the disappearing act his newest pet pulled without valid explanation, a few minutes before his scheduled performance. Gin wondered if the pressure finally got to the kid's thick skull, and this was his way of escaping.

A quick knock on the door dispelled this thought away, as one of his men poked his head in. Gin glanced at his Gucci watch. 6:57 pm. If this man was to tell him some piece of bad news, someone was seriously going to get hurt.

"Sir, Kurosaki Ichigo has just been seen entering the premises."

Gin opened his eyes when the aforementioned lad—who had apparently been running—entered the room. And he had his wife in tow. And they were both wet.

Another knock was heard.

"Sir? Two minutes before Kurosaki Ichigo gets on," a staff of the show informed them.

Gin nodded his dismissal before turning to eye the couple. Two minutes was barely enough time to change into a new pair of pants, much less get his hair dried and his make-up re-applied. As punishment, Gin would let the kid get on the stage looking like that, a wet dog. "Go."

Ichigo blinked and nodded as he vainly ran his hand through his orange locks to gain some semblance of style on it. He passed a quick look to his wife before disappearing with the show's staff member.

Gin scrutinized the petite woman left standing there, keeping herself warm in what he assumed was Ichigo's suit. He closed his eyes before walking away without a word.

* * *

Days after the performance, Ichigo found himself called over to the GIE head office. Despite the stunt he pulled, the performance proved to be a success. The crowd responded well to the new talent, and seemed to be instantly smitten by him.

Ichigo was simply thankful that he pulled it off, but was quite apprehensive of facing Ichimaru again. The famous producer hadn't said a single word to him since that fateful night, and Ichigo thought the older man had lost all interest in him due to his lack of professionalism. It had come to him as a surprise that he received a call summoning him to the office.

He figured it would either be the start of something, or the end of everything.

He found himself outside the dreaded office as Ichimaru's secretary slowly opened the door for him. "Please come in, Kurosaki-san."

"Thanks," was all Ichigo muttered as he made his way to the silver-haired man sitting behind his large oak desk at the center of the room.

"Have a seat, Ichigo-kun."

The orange-haired man did as he was told, and directed his gaze to the oak desk. He heard a thud before his eyes could register the files thrust in his general direction.

On top of the thick pile of paper was a picture of him—his first performance—and below it was an article about him.

"It seems that despite your…momentary disappearance, you were still a hit."

Ichigo looked at Gin for the first time that day, and saw the older man reaching into his suit for a very expensive-looking pen. The orange-head just stared dumbly at the pen offered to him.

"Omedetō. Kurosaki Ichigo, today is your contract-signing."

Amber eyes widened as Ichigo took the pen. He turned his attention back on the pile of paper, and slowly lifted the first page consisting of the news article.

His eyes skimmed through the whole thing, his mind delayed in processing all the information being fed to it.

…_an exclusive 5-year contract to GIE…_

…_a bachelor's pad in Shinsō Condominiums…_

…_a brand new car…_

Ichigo was overwhelmed. The hold he had on the pen tightened as he scanned the pages further.

…_full payment of your apartment in Karakura-ch__ō…_

…_a four-year full scholarship in Karakura University granted to Kurosakl Rukia for a program of her choice…_

…_a monthly stipend of 80,000 yen for Kurosaki Rukia…_

Ichigo slowly uncapped the pen, his hand trembling slightly at the turn of events and the assault of emotions. The tip of the pen touched the bold, black line where the orange-haired man's signature was supposed to be, when a particular line caught his eye.

_Condition: Hide your marriage from the public.

* * *

_

Yes, I rushed in writing this, as you can obviously tell. All in two hours. I wanted to breeze through all the intro-ish parts and move on with the story. Speaking of which…

The story's finally making progress. People saw this fic as a light-hearted story…and well…I tried to make it as light-hearted as possible. Tell me if I failed big time.

Sorry if it was too long. I planned on a short chapter, but as I was writing, it just…came out like that.

Thanks for reading, please review and tell me what you think!

**And the poll's still in my profile! PLEASE VOTE! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

Yes, I'm alive. Sorry for making you guys wait too long for this. And I cannot thank you enough for the overwhelming support you have given this story. Right now, I am dropping Motivations to focus on this one, since school and other happenings in RL wouldn't allow me to write both. Nevertheless I also thank those who read and supported Motivations during its short, short life. XD

Anyhoo, this chapter is dedicated to an FFN friend who's celebrating her birthday today (though she probably doesn't read this fic XD), **Yhkamy. **And then to **youtubesam** (surprised, aren't you?) for being the 100th person to ever put me in their favorite authors. You guys don't know how happy it made me feel to reach that number after two years on FFN. I sooo love all of you. *cries*

Anyhoo, I'm feeling kind of sick right now so I'll let you go and read the story. Forgive me if it's a little too slow-paced for you. And yes, it's another long (well it's long in my standards XD) chapter for you. I hope you enjoy it. Not personally a fan of how it turned out, but better to have something than nothing at all, right? XD

Slight OOC-ness is there somewhere. Forgive me if my grammar sucked—English isn't my mother tongue, and no, I still don't have a beta

**Disclaimer**: Bleach isn't mine. None of the Dramas mentioned in this chapter is mine either.

Definition:

Tōkyō Dōmu - Tokyo Dome

Chaidoru - Chidol, short for Child Idol. Also known as Junior Idol. Models who begin their careers at age 13-15.

Loituma Girl - please wiki it, I am not capable of explaining it. XD

* * *

"I am standing right outside the _Tōkyō Dōmu _and I still haven't gotten over possibly _the_ biggest event in Japanese music history, _ever_.

Rainy Day, Kurosaki "Rain" Ichigo's first major solo concert is undoubtedly a huuuuge success! With over forty-two thousand attendees, this is now _officially_ recorded as one of the most notable musical events in Japan.

The crowd roared wildly as Rain rocked the house the moment he stepped foot on _that_ stage. To those who didn't catch it, I tell you, you just missed half of your life!

After this very successful concert, Rain is said to be working on his next album, a new drama, and as we fans hope, another concert. This has been Matsumoto Rangiku reporting for Entertainment Weekly only here on Nippon TV."

20-year-old Ichigo clicked on the remote and turned the plasma TV off as he reclined on his plush black leather couch. He was finally having some time to relax, after strenuous months of preparation for his first concert held two days prior. Until now, he couldn't believe how the event turned out—the number of people, the overwhelming responses, positive feedbacks… For him, it had simply been a night to show the world that he was more than just a pretty face. He had a blast, singing and even dancing his heart out. He couldn't fathom how he reached this state of stardom having been a part of the industry for just a little over two years.

Yes, it had almost been a year and a half—seventeen months to be exact—since he first performed for a large crowd for the competition in his town. He clearly remembered being apprehensive about it, wanting to bolt and ditch the show with each passing second. It was halfway through the first verse when he started gaining confidence as he saw the pleased faces on the crowd.

And amidst the sea of strangers, a more-than-familiar face stood out with a smile.

His wife, the culprit behind his unexpected participation in the contest, had been beaming proudly at him amongst the crowd of spectators, waving her hands in perfect synch with the rest as he continued to pour the contents of his heart out.

She was the one who encouraged him, the one who submitted his name to the registration committee…the one who was the inspiration for the very first song he ever wrote.

THUD.

"Ow!" Ichigo clutched the side of his head that came into contact with something hard, effectively snatching him out of his reminiscing. He searched the floor of his living room for the offending object and found a very big and very round orange fruit rolling on the ground.

"You had a stupid look on your face, idiot. I think you're sick due to lack of rest and sleep," he heard a voice say, diverting his attention towards the speaker to his right.

Kurosaki Rukia stood by the entrance of his kitchen with a hand on her hips, looking at him expectantly. Ichigo sighed and grabbed the fruit off his Turkish carpet and stood up, making his way to the kitchen to grab a knife.

"You have to eat and rest so you'd stop zoning out, fool. It'll be embarrassing if you do that in public. Imagine singing in your concert and suddenly stopping because you forgot what to do next," Rukia snorted, her eyes following her husband's form.

Ichigo sat on the island counter with the orange slices on a plate in front of him. He surveyed his wife from head to toe, noting that she looked rather well and nothing much changed since he saw her last, which was two days ago during his concert, even though he wasn't able to get a close look at her back then. He didn't mind the caustic nature of her remarks, because he could clearly hear the underlying tone of concern in it. Plus her violet orbs told him she was really worried about him, probably due to the bags under his eyes.

His gaze travelled towards the kitchen table where plastic food containers sat—some full, the others empty. She came unexpectedly in a random fit of courage and worry carrying home-cooked meals Rukia knew he didn't have the luxury of enjoying despite his large paychecks.

During the rare glimpses she had of him, she had seen changes in him no one else would have paid any attention to. He lost weight, for one, and had more muscles. To some people, it was simply the effects of body-building to remain healthy and good-looking. But Rukia knew that the defined muscles in his chest, arms and legs were due to the rigorous training and hard work he has been submitting his body to.

"Stop worrying so much, Rukia. I'll be fine," Ichigo chided as he munched on his fruit slices. "'Sides, I'll have a couple of weeks of rest before work begins again."

Rukia's eyes lit up at the word _rest_ before dimming a little again when she heard _work_. She knew what this work was—a new drama. Her Ichigo had been a successful actor on top of being a multiple-platinum recording artist. He usually starred in those dramas very much like the shōjo mangas she loved to read, often with a pretty girl that made her jealous and angry.

His first had been an unexpected hit. He played the role of the enigmatic and intelligent Sawada Shin, leader of the rowdy Class 3-D in the J-dorama Gokudō no Sensei (Gangster Teacher) where he was first rumored to have a secret relationship with lead actress Shiba Kūkaku who played the role of a Yakuza boss' granddaughter and heiress and wanted to become a teacher. Rukia had been shocked beyond belief when she first saw the news on TV. She was hurt, mad, and wanted badly to castrate her husband for cheating on her with an older woman, but before she could get any of her plans in motion, the so-called cheating bastard called her on her cell phone and assured her that it was just some promotional scheme.

Rukia wasn't stupid; she knew how the media worked. And she heard the sincerity in her husband's voice and knew that it was pointless to get jealous of her husband's co-workers considering his field of industry.

That didn't mean it had been any easier to bear the second time, when he starred in his second hit series, Hanazakari no Kimitachi e (You in Full Blossom) as Sano Izumi where he had actually been required to kiss co-star Mirokumaru Senna who played the lead character Ashiya Mizuki, a girl who enrolled herself in an all-boys school and lived in all-boys dormitory. It didn't help that Rukia found Senna…cute, and that she was the same age as Ichigo. She had wanted to call Ichigo to get some reassurance, but she had been forbidden from calling his phone—she can only speak to him if he called first. A safety precaution of sorts he had said was an order from Ichimaru-san. So she had sat there in front of the television, waiting for the phone to ring. And ring it did, with a sheepish Ichigo softly reassuring her, as they both watched his kissing scene be played over and over again on the news, Rukia with a tugging pain in her heart.

His constant reassurance after that had been enough to calm Rukia's frazzled nerves. The next ones had been easier to let slide. Soon, she was just smiling whenever she saw him on a TV ad or a movie. Nothing but a faint ache in her chest was the only indication of emotion whenever she sees him kiss another woman.

"Well…what is it this time? You've been a lot of things in the past. An athlete, a delinquent, a photographer…not to mention a leukemic." Rukia raised a questioning brow.

"A rich, snobbish heir," Ichigo said as he smirked. "King of the school, bully…leader of F4. Does that ring a bell?"

Rukia gasped. "Are you serious? They're turning Hana Yori Dango into a live action drama?"

Ichigo hopped off the counter and placed his plate on the table. "Yup. We're starting the first shoot in two weeks." Ichigo leaned against the table and stared at his wife's positively shocked face. He knew Rukia was a big fan of the shōjo manga series. She had always wanted to write a story quite like it and make it a big hit as well. It was unfortunate that whatever she wrote always ended up being a rabbit-centered story.

"Stop gaping, Rukia," Ichigo teased.

"I'm just excited, fool. But…who's gonna play Makino Tsukushi?"

Ichigo scratched the back of his neck absently. "Some chaidoru, I think. Inoue Orihime?" he asked, unsure.

Rukia gasped again. "Loituma girl? Really?"

Ichigo walked towards his wife and encased her in his arms. It was his way of reassuring her that though the next few months would be hell, he would still be there when she needed him. "Yeah, her." He felt the subtle stiffening of Rukia's body before she gradually began to relax in his arms.

"She's pretty," she said in a quiet voice.

"Mm."

"She's sexy," Rukia continued, tilting her head to look him in the eyes.

"So are you."

"She has a great singing voice." She looked away as Ichigo started stroking her hair.

"So?"

"…she has orange hair?" Rukia said with her lips slowly curling up into a smile.

"It's caramel, actually. Probably dyed it," Ichigo muttered as he nuzzled his wife's hair. It probably wasn't dyed, both husband and wife knew. But nonetheless, Rukia appreciated Ichigo's efforts. Sometimes, she was thankful of their time apart. Ichigo became even more sensitive to her feelings due to their distance and time away from each other.

"So…" Ichigo started as he pulled back a little. "How's the writing going?"

Rukia beamed as she stepped out of his embrace. "Great! I just finished another story about a boy called Chigo and a genie girl from a place called Lamp Society!"

Ichigo raised a brow. "Chigo? Let me guess, the genie's name is Ruki?"

His wife grinned in mischief. "Close. It's Rukiruki."

Ichigo playfully rolled his eyes as he walked over to the coffee table beside the black couch. He picked up a small rectangular piece of paper and read its contents in his mind.

Rukia made her way towards him and peeked into the card. "What's that?"

The orange-haired man turned to her and handed Rukia the paper. "A calling card. Shihōin Yoruichi of Kuroineko Publishing."

Yoruichi was the head of one of the biggest publishing houses in all of Japan, and Ichigo knew she didn't just take crappy pieces of writing from anyone. He was lucky that Yoruichi had been very fond of him, and he found out she knew his dad from way back. He had asked this favor from her, to see his wife's…er, _a friend_'s works and help the petite woman improve her writing. Yoruichi had been very glad to oblige, but Ichigo was afraid she'd snap at Rukia after reading the raven-haired woman's latest fairytale.

Rukia was positively stumped. "Shihōin…Kuroineko? I…"

"Call her, Rukia. She's already expecting you."

Rukia smiled softly. "Thank you, Ichigo. But…does she know?"

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck and looked away guiltily. "No. I said you were a…friend."

The petite woman merely blinked. "I see. I'll call her tomorrow. Thank you." She rose on her tip toes and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. "I have to go now."

Ichigo placed one arm around her waist to hold her close. "Can't you stay a little longer?"

Rukia laid her head on Ichigo's chest and shook it softly. "No. If I'm meeting Shihōin-san soon, I need to polish my story."

Ichigo smiled. "Okay, let me get my keys, I'll drive you—"

"Fool. Are you suicidal? You can't. Didn't you see all those glinting lenses outside your building? There are paparazzi everywhere, Ichigo. It had been a big risk enough for me to come see you here. I'm sure some people are already speculating. I cannot risk any further."

The orange-haired man's eyes dimmed a little as he placed his chin on top of her head. "Okay."

But he didn't let her go, until Rukia herself moved out of his grasp.

"I'll call you, okay? And I promise to come home as soon as I can."

Rukia nodded at his words, the words "but this is your home now" playing in her head, but refused to leave her lips. It was always hard having to face this kind of goodbye with Ichigo. She could never know when exactly she could see him again. It could be days, weeks, or even months. She wasn't really the type to wear her emotions on her sleeves, but she couldn't help from being emotional during times like this.

"I love you, Ichigo," she said—words she rarely spoke, even to him.

Ichigo caressed his wife's cheek as he leaned in and kissed her goodbye. "I love you, too, Rukia."

And with that, the husband and wife let each other go, both hearts yearning for the next time they see each other again.

* * *

Rukia sat nervously on a chair outside an office door with the words "Shihōin Yoruichi, President" on it. She had called the office last night and was able to talk to Shihōin-san's stern secretary. Suì-Fēng, if she remembered correctly, had told her to come the next day and meet her boss in person, for the woman had been expecting Rukia for days.

Ichigo called right after and she only had a few minutes to tell him about the scheduled meeting before he had to hang up and answer another call. It was probably work-related so he had to take it. Nevertheless, Rukia's spirit was elated, so with a smile on her face and her manuscript in hand, she trooped to the Kuroineko Publishing office in Shibuya-ku, Tokyo.

And now here she was, waiting to be ushered inside the office. She stared at the brown envelope resting on her lap, seeing the words "Chigo and Rukiruki: Adventures in Lamp Society" on the first page as though the envelope wasn't impeding her vision at all. She was caressing the edges of her envelope lovingly when she heard the door opening, and a slender woman with braided hair and a serious look on her face led her in. "Yoruichi-sama is ready to talk to you now."

Rukia rose from her seat and cautiously made her way inside the lavish office, immediately settling her eyes on the dark-skinned, golden-eyed exotic beauty sitting behind a large oak desk, wearing a Cheshire cat grin on her lips.

"So, you're Rukia, huh?" Shihōin Yoruichi asked as she scanned some papers on her desk. Rukia guessed it was some information about her.

"Come closer, Ukitake" Her booming voice startled the petite woman who flinched, but more so due to hearing her maiden name than the volume of Shihōin-san's voice.

Yoruichi offered Rukia a seat in front of the oak desk and read the papers in her hand further.

"So…Ichigo, huh? How'd you know him?"

Rukia was confused by the question. She was expecting this no-nonsense woman to immediately ask for her manuscript and decide then and there if Rukia did have a future in writing or not. But the petite woman surmised that this small talk regarding her relationship with Ichigo was Shihōin-san's way to gauge whether she was trustworthy or not.

"Eh…he was my…classmate back in high school," Rukia said slowly, afraid of accidentally divulging more information than necessary.

"Classmate you say? That boy's actually my long lost godson. I haven't seen him since he was a little kid. Doesn't even remember me, that brat. And his hair's still as bright as ever." Yoruichi smirked and Rukia couldn't help but smile back. "I used to be one of his dad's closest friends. Speaking of which, how's that crazy man? Still beating Ichigo up? And what of his twin sisters?" Yoruichi's eyes glinted in amusement.

Rukia smiled again at the light turn the conversation had taken. "Isshin-san is great. He's still running the Kurosaki Clinic in Karakura. The girls are in high school now. They're attending Karakura High where Ichigo and I used to study."

Yoruichi smirked. "For just a former classmate, you sure do know a lot about his family, ne?"

Rukia's eyes widened as she mentally cursed her big mouth. She became much too comfortable that she had forgotten her limitations for a second. "Eh…we are…uhh quite close."

"Looks like it. He wouldn't have asked for this favor for just anyone. That boy probably has the hots for you, ne?"

The violet-eyed woman gasped. "No, no! I'm sure that's not true! I mean…he is THE Kurosaki Ichigo. I'm sure he's into the…supermodel types." Rukia looked away at this.

Yoruichi, seeing the sudden drop in mood, thinking that perhaps this little woman was in love with her godson, decided to change the topic. "Anyway, enough about Ichigo. Let me see what you have for me."

Rukia immediately handed her envelope over and watched anxiously as Yoruichi's golden eyes skimmed the pages.

"_She'll probably give you some sort of fairytale about rabbits or other fluffy animals. Just…just give her a chance, please," _Yoruichi remembered Ichigo saying. _"She has a way with words…she really has. Even though her illustrations suck, and her central characters and plot are very unrealistic, she's good with story-telling. Help her improve, please. She really wants to write."_

Yoruichi sighed and shuffled the papers before looking Ukitake Rukia right in the eyes. Ichigo was right, Rukia's use of words was very good, but the petite woman tended to get carried away by her apparent love for rabbits and fairytales and perhaps even shōjo manga that she loses focus on the important details of her story. That, and her doodles beside the pages which Yoruichi believed was Rukia's attempt to illustrate the story really hurt the dark-skinned woman's eyes.

"Listen Rukia. I don't mean to be harsh on you…but this just isn't good enough material." Yoruichi saw Rukia's shoulders slump as she returned the papers inside the envelope.

Rukia knew this was a dismissal and reached for the manuscript, but Yoruichi held it away from the petite woman's reach.

"Sorry Ukitake, but now that you're working for me, all your manuscripts are mine to keep."

Rukia blinked. Did she say…? "W-work for you?"

Yoruichi raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Yep. Welcome to Kuroineko, Ukitake Rukia. You'll be undergoing writing workshops from my best writers, and submit as many manuscripts as you can, 'til I get good material from you. Don't disappoint me, Ukitake. You're getting good pay for this," she said with a grin.

"I… Thank you! Thank you so much!" Rukia bowed lowly.

The dark-skinned woman merely waved her thanks off. "Eh, just go work on a new one. No need to thank me so much."

"Hai!" was Rukia's jovial response as she made her way to the door.

"Oh, and Ukitake? Next time, refrain from doodling dogs on the edges of the papers."

* * *

Ichigo cursed as he drove towards the TV station. He was surprised when he received a call a few minutes ago, directly from Ichimaru-san, and on his supposed "break" no less. Apparently, his break was but an illusion, for he was required to participate in some team building activity the staff and crew of his new drama were to undergo before the actual filming in two weeks' time. He had planned on visiting Karakura in secret, checking on his sisters and dad, and then spending the rest of his break with his wife. But no, Ichimaru-san had other plans and called him to inform him that he needed to head over to his boss' office soon.

He parked his car and went out, fixing the suit jacket he wore haphazardly in his rush to get to the place. He passed through the revolving doors and walked towards the elevator, glad that no one was there that time of night, and pressed the button to Ichimaru's floor. He ran a hand through his hair as he thought of his wife who was probably waiting for him to call back after hanging up to take Ichimaru's call. A few seconds later, the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, letting Ichigo out to head towards the door that marked Ichimaru's office. Now that he was a "somebody", he was allowed to come and go as he pleased without the aid of Ichimaru's secretary, not that Ichigo wanted to be in close proximity with the man at all times. He knocked on the door and was surprised that when he turned to open it, someone else from the inside opened it for him. It was Ichimaru Gin himself.

"Ah, Ichigo-kun. I'm glad yer able to come on such short notice," Gin said, large smile in place, eyes slanted.

"Of course, Ichimaru-san. What do you need me for?"

The men fully entered the room and walked towards the center where another occupant sat silently on the couch.

"Ah yes. Meet the lovely woman ya will be working with." Ichimaru gestured towards the caramel-haired woman who stood up and bowed a little. "This is Inoue Orihime." Gin nudged the woman in the direction of the orange-haired man.

"Nice to meet you, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime said with a sweet smile. "I'm hoping we'll have a good relationship while we're working together."

* * *

Somewhere in a mansion on the outskirts of Tokyo, a woman who was bound and gagged screamed incoherent words as she struggled from her ties But no help was coming to her anytime soon…

* * *

AN: Ichigo's scene happened a day before Rukia met Yoruichi, if that was unclear. ^^

And yes, I used the Lamp Society idea from the anime, and the 17 month separation in the manga. =)

So is my pace too slow for you? I think in the next chapter, the pace will be picking up, especially now that Orihime has been introduced. Who wants to see Ashido? XD

And I know Senna doesn't have a last name, so I kind of used her zanpakuto instead. Are you guys annoyed that I'm using real dramas in this story? Please tell me!

And le gasp, what was that in the ending? I won't tell. XD

Anyhoo,** please PLEASE review!** I miss reading your reviews. And who knows, your reviews just might be what I need to get another chapter up before Christmas, hopefully? :D


	4. Chapter 4

EDIT: Gaaaawsh I'm sooo ashamed for being so careless!I'd like to give full credit to **Kurosaki Anne** for pointing out to me one very important detail in the story that I COMPLETELY MISSED due to absentmindedness. I have edited some parts where Rukia was regarded as Kuchiki, because in this story she is an UKITAKE. Sorry everyone. And thank you so much, Kurosaki Anne!

Who hates me for not updating before Christmas? I'M SO SORRY! Been busy. Really!

Just a short update. I just wanted to get something out before the year closes. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I love you all so much! This baby's for you. :D

Not my favorite chapter, so forgive me if it disappoints you. I'm trying to give more background to Ichigo's current status, so yeah.

Slight OOC-ness is there somewhere. Forgive me if my grammar sucked—English isn't my mother tongue, and no, I still don't have a beta

**Disclaimer**: Bleach isn't mine. HanaDan (Hana Yori Dango) and its characters aren't mine either. And no, I haven't eaten Wagyu steak. :(

* * *

"Welcome back to RAN Away, the only show where we reveal secrets that make celebrities want to run away." Applause was heard as the camera zoomed in on the set where two matching red couches were placed, one facing the camera, the other on its side.

"Before the commercial break, we left our guest with a hanging question. So tell us, Rain-san, how did you start in this industry?" Matsumoto Rangiku put on a clueless yet intrigued face as she spoke the question she had practiced from her script a few moments prior. She leaned forward to emphasize her curiosity, her side facing the audience.

Ichigo sat on a matching seat facing the camera and the crowd as he took on a reminiscing look, his brows furrowing as he hummed. "Let's see..." He broke into a small, charming smile that made the schoolgirls in the audience squeal and giggle in delight.

"I used to sing and just play the guitar or the piano to myself when I was younger." Rangiku nodded as she shifted in her seat, seemingly riveted by his story. "I never really thought about going professional, until that one day in my hometown where I...chanced upon this flyer about a songwriting-slash-singing competition. My...friends and family urged me to join, and I thought 'Why not?' Who would've expected THE Ichimaru Gin to be watching amongst the crowd? The next thing I knew, he was there in front of me, handing me a calling card and telling me to come to his office." His amber eyes dimmed a little. Most people thought it was out of nostalgia-that he was thoroughly captivated by his own tale. Only a few people could tell that his heart was not into his words. Lies. Ichigo unconsciously clenched his fists, but when the gesture registered in his mind, he immediately loosened them. The media has a way of creating stories with the simplest gestures and facial expressions. "That was a very special day in my life. That day brought me here. Back then, it didn't even matter to me whether or not I won the competition," he shifted his amber orbs to stare straight into the show host's clear blue eyes as he ended his statement. "...but I think it made it all the more special that I won first place."

"Wow," Rangiku turned to look at her audience with wide-eyed wonder. "So our beloved Rain is a classic story of small town boy turned badass superstar. Very impressive, that you captured Ichimaru-sama's attention like that. He's very well known for having a keen eye for talent. And he sure did find potential in you. You agree?" Hoots and nods of agreement were the audience's response.

"So..." Rangiku started as she looked back at Ichigo. "Why Rain?"

The orange-haired man was quiet for a few seconds before he leaned back into the couch. "The rain...has a very special meaning in my life." His eyes lost focus as he absently stared at the carpeted floor of the set. "It symbolizes all the...memorable moments in my life. The rain has always been there to witness my pain," _it represents everything in life that I hate,_ Ichigo wanted to add, but refrained from doing so, as Ichimaru had very explicitly told him to.

"I see," Rangiku nodded understandingly. "We know how very personal you take this whole thing, and we also know," the strawberry blonde grinned slyly, "...that all the songs you've written are very close to your heart. So tell us, Rain-san...who is the inspiration behind your hits? Especially our favorite, Raining?" More hoots and whistles were heard from the audience as Ichigo squirmed in his seat.

"Well..." Ichigo hesitated. "...if you're asking if I have someone special right now, the answer is n-no." The amber-eyed star flinched as the guilt slowly consumed him, but made no other outward indication of his discomfort. "I wrote those songs from my heart, that's why they're so important to me. That's why they're heartfelt. They're my feelings, regardless of my current marital status."

Rangiku slightly raised a brow at his use of the word, but dismissed it and went on to ask her next question. "So how about Kūkaku?" Rangiku grinned. "Or Senna? We heard you guys have gone out to dinner quite often." More teasing could be heard from the audience.

Ichigo laughed as he found comfort in the light turn the conversation took. "Senna and Kūkaku-san are great friends of mine. We had really good working relationships during the time we were filming and I guess it just...stuck."

Rangiku stared at him with a teasing smile on her face before she winked conspiratorially at the audience. She turned back to the orange-haired man and delivered the final blow. "And what would you say about the rumors that you've been seen going out often with future HanaDan co-star Inoue Orihime?"

Ichigo mentally scowled and cursed as he remembered that day she was referring to. It was that ONE time only, but trust the media to make it appear as though he had been with the caramel-haired chaidoru more than that.

Plus it hadn't been intentional. He had gone to this classy restaurant after receiving a call, yet again, from Ichimaru saying that the director of Hana Yori Dango wanted to meet with him in person. Ichigo couldn't say no and immediately agreed to the scheduled meeting. Imagine his surprise when he arrived at the place, only to find Inoue Orihime demurely sitting there on her own-no director, and certainly no Ichimaru Gin in sight. He was about to turn back and drive towards his condo, but the woman seemed to have noticed his arrival.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime called out and waved at him. Ichigo made his way to her table just as he felt his phone vibrate in his pants pocket.

"Let me guess. You're here because the director asked you to?" Ichigo inquired as he unwillingly sat down in the chair facing the caramel-haired woman, fishing out his cell phone from his pocket. He didn't quite care about proper greetings at the moment.

"Hai! I was wondering when the others would come. I've been here for half an hour already," Orihime said with a slight pout on her lips. "But I arrived early so... Ah, I'm glad Kurosaki-kun is here to keep me company!"

Ichigo murmured a half-hearted "yeah" as he concentrated on reading the text message he received, which no doubt was from Ichimaru.

It had but two words: _"HAVE FUN."_

Ichigo scowled. What was Ichimaru up to? He sighed and was about to excuse himself when Orihime's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Oh! Mr. Director said he couldn't make it today! He has an emergency to attend to so we'd have to re-schedule." Orihime's orbs were on her own mobile phone before travelling upwards to look Ichigo in the eye. "I'm so sorry, Kurosaki-kun..."

'Emergency my ass,' Ichigo thought bitterly. "It's okay—"

"Ah, but we can still have lunch, ne? Since we're already here and all. They have delicious wagyū steak in here! And if you add red bean paste on it, it's simply irresistible! Let's order, Kurosaki-kun!"

He had begrudgingly stayed in his seat, ignoring the strong urge to bolt. He'd rather be in his condo, curled up in bed and spend the rest of his "break" in peace. But he couldn't just leave the woman alone now, could he? And if he was really honest with himself, Ichigo found Orihime a pretty decent woman. And he really liked having good working relationships with his co-stars to prevent any awkwardness during the filming.

And then, Ichigo remembered Ichimaru's words just before the interview began.

_"We need publicity for yer new drama, Ichigo-kun. It wouldn't get high ratings by itself, ya know. Ya have to…give it a li'l push."_

And Ichigo, despite his short stay in the industry, knew exactly what kind of push Ichimaru meant. He'd done enough of this publicity shit with his former co-stars. Ichimaru was asking—more like telling him—to make it appear as if there was an off-screen romance between him and his HanaDan co-star.

_"When they ask,"_ Ichimaru had said, smile slowly fading as his lips settled in a straight line. _"…don't deny."_

Ichigo jerked back to the present and realized he still hadn't answered Matsumoto's inquiry. "Well," he started, unconsciously rubbing the back of his head as he leaned back into the couch. "She's a nice woman. And I…don't find anything wrong with getting to know my future co-workers."

"So does this mean there IS a chance that one of Japan's hottest men in 2010 won't remain single for long?" Rangiku asked as she put a finger to her smiling lips.

Ichigo mentally flinched again. He should really start getting used to these types of questions. His involuntary gestures would be trouble in the future. He apologized to his dear wife in his head as he answered, "We'll see what happened when we get there."

Rangiku clapped happily and grinned widely as a bouquet was handed to her before she stood up. "Well, why don't we see what Makino Tsukushi herself has to say about this? Ladies and gents, Inoue Orihime!"

Applause once again rang throughout the audience as the caramel-haired woman wearing a spaghetti-strapped pink dress—that clashed with the bright red couches, Ichigo mentally noted as he stood up—and black high heels walked towards the center of the set with a sweet smile and a tinge of blush on her cheeks. Rangiku nudged Ichigo as she gave him the bouquet to hand to Orihime.

"Thank you for coming, Orihime-san!"

Orihime took the bouquet from Ichigo, secretly reveling at the slight contact of their fingertips. "Arigatō, Rangiku-san. Hello everyone" She waved shyly at the audience and the camera before sitting down at the same time Ichigo and Rangiku did. She was sitting so close to Ichigo that the orange-haired man had no choice but place one of his arms on top of the couch behind Orihime so he could move freely.

"So Orihime-san, looking pretty cozy in there aren't we? How's Ichigo-san so far?" The strawberry blonde host asked her real life friend.

Orihime glanced at Ichigo with a smile. "It had been great knowing him. I mean, THE Kurosaki Ichigo? I could only dream of…of actually working with him. Kurosaki-kun has been nothing but a gentleman since the day we met."

"And you're entertaining the idea of being his Makino Tsukushi in real life?" Rangiku winked at the blushing caramel-haired woman as the audience let out teasing noises.

"Anō… I… L-like Kurosaki-kun said, we'll see when we get there. Though I'm certainly not closing my doors," Orihime declared, looking at the flowers in her hand, head down in embarrassment.

"We'll certainly keep an eye on you two. So why don't you go and invite them to watch your upcoming show?"

* * *

Ichigo sighed as he walked through the familiar corridors of Nippon TV towards Ichimaru's office. Ran Away has just finished, and he was asked to go to his boss' office immediately. He was about to knock on the door when it opened, revealing former Hana Kimi co-star Senna.

"Oh Ichigo!" Senna unexpectedly hugged him as the bewildered orange-haired man tried to get his bearings back.

"Hey, Senna. How have you been?" Ichigo smiled as they broke the embrace.

"I'm good," she grinned fully, proudly. "I just got that big soda ad, and I'm excited!"

Ichigo blinked. "Soda ad? I thought Hinamori Momo was chosen for that?"

Senna shrugged. "I don't know. The company said Hinamori-san isn't that much of a hit lately. I mean, really, where has she been for the past what, five, six months? Nowhere to be found." She playfully narrowed her bright eyes at him. "Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to be happy for me?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I—"

"Kurosaki." Ichimaru's voice reached the pair and interrupted their conversation.

Ichigo peeked through the slightly ajar door before facing Senna again. "It's great seeing you, but I have to go. Congratulations with that ad. Good luck."

"Yeah, yeah," Senna waved him off. "And good luck with that new drama. See you around!"

Ichigo nodded as he watched Senna walk away before bracing himself to enter Ichimaru's office.

* * *

"Ukitake! Welcome back!" Ypruichi grinned as she waved the smaller woman to come closer to her desk. It has been a week since Rukia started writing for Kuroineko. During the past few days, Yoruichi had been slowly testing Rukia's skills through on-the-spot essay writing, proofreading and several random writing review sessions. the dark-skinned beauty found out that Rukia had impeccable grammar, and had a really impressive vocabulary—the drawback was that the raven-haired woman sometimes tend to unconsciously overuse it. Which, to be honest, Yoruichi found quite unappealing, for she wanted stories that were complex in content but simply written, enough to be understood by the common man. So far, Rukia had been doing quite a good job in the proofreading department, though Yoruichi only gave the raven-haired woman drafts and manuscripts from her "small" writers, and always made sure she checked on the materials after Rukia had gone through it, just to see the younger woman's thoughts on it, and her progress and performance. Which was exceptional, considering it had only been a week since she started. Though so far, Yoruichi has yet to see a publish-worthy material from the new girl.

"Come Ukitake! I'd like you to meet one of my greatest writers." Yoruichi motioned towards the man sitting in front of the oak desk. "This is Kanō Ashido, writer of—"

"The Forest of the Great Hollow!" Rukia interrupted excitedly. She gasped when she realized how rude it had been. "I'm sorry Shihōin-san—"

"Nah, it's okay Ukitake! Lighten up. Anyway, Ashido, this is Ukitake Rukia, my newest writer."

Kanō Ashido, a tall man with maroon hair and gray eyes, smiled slightly at the violet-eyes woman and bowed. "It's nice to meet you. Shihōin-san has been telling me about your stories."

"M-my stories?" Rukia blushed slightly, remembering her first rejected manuscript. Her right hand reached over her chest to hold her left arm as she looked away.

"Don't get disappointed, Ukitake-san. Not everyone gets lucky on the first try," Ashido reassured.

"I'd like you two to work together from now on. Ashido, you are to show Rukia the ropes. Guide her through the ins and outs of this business. And I hope you find your inspiration soon. Your readers are dying to read another of your works."

Ashido, who recently had been experiencing some writer's block, regarded the short woman with his cool gray eyes. "I hope so, too, Shihōin-san."

* * *

Ichigo stood quietly in front of his boss who intentionally took his time shuffling through the papers in his desk. Sweat dropped off Ichigo's forehead as he tried to read his boss' body language. Ichimaru's signature creepy smile was nowhere in place, and there was a slight crease between his brows. Plus the silver-haired man called him "Kurosaki", just that. Ichigo quickly replayed his behavior throughout Matsumoto-san's show, and wondered if he had done something wrong. His boss sure had a creepy smile, but his silence was definitely more unnerving.

Ichigo cleared his throat. No better way to know what his offense was than to ask, right? "Ichimaru-san, you asked for me?"

Ichimaru ceased all his movements. The folders in his hands were dropped unceremoniously on his table as he lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes, blue orbs immobilizing Ichigo right where he stood. A pale hand slowly reached for the folder on top of the file on the desk and, without breaking eye contact, threw it in Ichigo's direction. It hit the amber-eyed star slightly in the chest before coming to rest on the floor, open to let the orange-haired man see its contents.

On it was a picture. A picture of a certain raven-haired woman discreetly making her way out of his condominium building.

Shit.

* * *

Shortest chapter so far, and my least favorite. But meh, we're moving aren't we? XD And two updates in one month, despite my writer's block (that never seems to go away…Ashido help meh! jk XD)? That's as close to a miracle as I'm gonna get. Forgive me for the spelling and grammar issues, I do not have the time to recheck it, as schoolwork has been piling up fast (yes, even on CHRISTMAS BREAK) and demands my immediate attention.

And yes, though it may not look it, Senna's little scene will be of (slight) importance in the future. But that's for waaaaay later.

Anyhoo, I hope you guys had a very merry Christmas. **This baby's my present to you, I hope you liked it. Please leave me a review (your Christmas present to me…PLEASE :D).** HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! I'LL SEE YOU NEXT YEAR! XD


	5. Chapter 5

Wow. This took a really looooong time to be finished, and it isn't even great. I'm so sorry everyone, but I seem to have lost all motivation to write. This chapter took me months to finish, and I won't lie to you, I don't even like how some things turned out. I'd probably come back and change a lot of things when I finally figure out how to write again. To be honest, I'm not sure when the next chapter's gonna be out. I'm so sorry this A/N is so full of negative things. I'm just really having a hard time with the writing, so I'm so sorry. It's disappointing to see that in half a month, this story's gonna be celebrating its first year anniversary, and I'm only on chapter five. Pitiful, I know. I don't want to make any more promises about updating because it tends to disappoint. Anyways, not much happens in this chapter. But there will be soon, if I get around to writing another chapter.

An emotional chapter, if I succeeded in making it so. I wanted to elaborate on the personal struggles Ichigo and Rukia have regarding their current situation. Hope it worked. I'm about to rewatch the Full House series next week and I'm hoping it'll help me get back into the writing mood.

I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the previous chapter! Each one of the reviews I receive are sooo special to me. Thank you so much!

Random dedication to **Kie Ahn** who sent me a message on facebook more than two months ago regarding this story-sorry for making you wait this long! =)

Slight OOC-ness is there somewhere. Forgive me if my grammar sucked—English isn't my mother tongue, and no, I still don't have a beta reader.

**Disclaimer**: Bleach isn't mine.

* * *

Ichigo looked at the picture, finding some form of saving grace, that perhaps, the woman on the picture didn't look like his wife at all and that he could disguise her as someone else. It was rather fortunate that the woman in the picture had her back facing the camera, but nevertheless, the dark raven hair and the petite build was a dead giveaway that it was indeed Rukia. The orange-haired star cursed under his breath as he thought of how to deal with his boss regarding the issue.

"It was just a quick visit, I swear," he insisted. It probably wasn't the best way to start an explanation, but Ichigo found the need to defend his wife's actions. After all, she knew the risks she was taking when she decided to pay him a visit, yet she still braved through it. Most importantly, she did it because she was worried about him and that she missed him so—something she was very much entitled to, being his wife.

"Not quick enough not ta get caught," Ichimaru Gin countered, resting his elbows on the table as he laced his long, thin fingers together. "I thought we had an _understanding_, Kurosaki."

Ichigo discreetly gulped as he nervously ran his fingers through his orange mane. "Ichimaru-san, we haven't seen each other in months—"

"She was in the front row during yer concert—as ya had requested yerself, if I recall correctly," the silver-haired man interrupted, his eyes lazily scanning his office, finally landing on a shelf in the far right adjacent to the door, where trophies of all forms and sizes sat proudly.

Ichigo sighed with growing frustration. "How could they even tell it was me she was visiting? I'm not the only resident in Shinsō!" Truth be told, the whole being-away-from-his-wife business had been weighing Ichigo down for quite some time now. All he wanted was to be able to freely share what he had right now with the most important person in his life. He may not have planned nor expected to be this big, but he realized a part of him had always secretly wanted to—not for the fame and the money and the fans, no matter how cheesy and unbelievable that might have sounded, but for the power to be heard and make a difference. A lot of the new generation's famous acts had been invented by the fans, and in doing so, these famous acts had re-invented the people _in their own image_. Him being a part of the very small percentage of the population that could actually influence people—and in a good way, he hoped—was a very great blessing, something he'd eternally be grateful to Ichimaru-san for. But it wasn't as gratifying with no one to share it with. How many times had he gone home from a performance wanting nothing but to embrace his wife and tell her joyfully how his fans positively received his new song? Too many times to count. How often did he wake up, all cold and alone on his king-sized bed, yearning for the warmth only Rukia's small body could offer him? How much did it hurt not being able to thank his wife—the one who stood beside him, the one who pushed him to do his best at everything—whenever he went up the stage to receive an award? He couldn't even begin to fathom. And 20-year-old Ichigo couldn't understand—oh how he wanted to—why he couldn't just give the charade up and tell everyone he was married. Then, the media could stop pairing him up with every single woman he gets into contact with, the said females would finally stop trying to get his attention, and he could finally freely share his successes and joy to the one person that mattered most.

Ichimaru stood up, instantly breaking Ichigo's thoughts. The producer walked towards the shelf that had his attention, carefully looking at each piece of glass and each chunk of metal that had his name and some of the famous artists he had produced over time. His pale fingers ghosted over some of them, lightly tracing the names engraved on it. He stopped as his fingers reached one particular trophy—one that an artist he was handling gave to him after he won it, as a sign of gratitude. On the trophy, there engraved were the words "33rd Television Drama Academy Awards, Best Supporting Actor", under which was a name: Kurosaki Ichigo. Without looking back, the older man knew he had the complete attention of the orange-haired boy. "Tell me, Kurosaki, " he turned around, holding the particular trophy that had caught his interest, "…does it look like I do not know what I'm doin'?"

And Ichigo knew he had lost this battle.

Had he been less unnerved by Gin, Ichigo would've wondered why Gin never really answered his question.

* * *

Rukia stared blankly at her computer as she wondered what to do next. Yoruichi-san had finally given her some time off from proofreading and essay-writing—something about not wanting her newest writer all burnt-out. So now, she was trying to concentrate on writing a new story. The petite woman lightly bit her bottom lip as her fingers tapped the keyboard randomly. She frowned as she tried to remember that idea she had while at work. She wanted so bad to just get a pen and a piece of paper to write a draft for the idea, but she had deadlines to beat and so much work to do. She leaned back into her swivel chair staring at her blinking cursor and the blank document, having a hard time remembering what the hell the idea had been.

"Urgh, I hate this." The raven-haired woman got up and crossed her arms, pacing back and forth in her tiny room. Oh, excuse her—hers and her husband's tiny room. _Her husband._ She stopped aimlessly walking back and forth as she stood right in front of their wedding picture hanging right across the bed. Originally, the photo had been placed in the living room of the small apartment, but ever since Ichigo moved out—no, temporarily started staying in Tokyo, her subconscious supplied—Rukia moved the picture into the bedroom, wanting to be able to always see it before she went to sleep and as she woke up in the morning, finding sad comfort—but comfort nonetheless—in the fact that he was _still_ her husband and that things would get better soon. _Hopefully._ She sighed wistfully as she willed the stinging pain in her chest to subside, but finding herself drawn to a dresser drawer that housed one very important thing. She reached for the metal handle of the drawer hesitantly, knowing that opening it would only assault her with memories and the painful reminder that her Ichigo wasn't around. And yet, she told herself that it was also reminder that Ichigo was indeed just somewhere in Tokyo, doing his best at his job for her and the family she had always wanted to have. Her fingers curled around the thin bar handle and slowly pulled the wooden compartment out. Amongst several documents and pens, staplers and paper clips, sat a small, square, black velvet box. Rukia gently took it and went over to the bed, sitting quietly as her violet eyes softly but reverently regarded the object in her hands. The band on her left ring finger glinted as if in anticipation of seeing its partner as Rukia opened the tiny box that revealed Ichigo's wedding ring. Tears prickled the corner of her eyes as she remembered the day she volunteered to take care of it for him to avoid an emotional discussion about how he would keep it.

"_You know how they love featuring stars' homes on TV?"_ she had once playfully asked. "They always, ALWAYS find something controversial in there," she told him as she clutched the velvet box close to her chest. Even Ichigo, stubborn, strong-willed Ichigo, couldn't deny that, and even though he wanted nothing more than to just wear the ring in a necklace so he could be with it all the time, he knew it would be impossible not to be spotted by the media's sharp eyes.

He might not have been able to tell, but that day hurt Rukia more than the day he actually left for Tokyo. To her, it felt as though him giving up the wedding band was like him giving up on _them, _which Rukia knew was ridiculous to even think of. But she was a wife who felt like her husband was leaving her. Sometimes, she cursed herself for being foolish enough to urge him to pursue this…career, but whenever she hears the smile in his voice when he calls her to say he received an award nomination for a new song, or see the twinkling of his brown eyes when he really gets into a song at his concerts, or witness the genuine smile on his lips when she says she's so proud of him, Rukia couldn't help but think she made the right decision. Because she knew no matter how hard Ichigo tried to deny it during high school by being all shy or grouchy, the orange-haired man just loved performing—it warms his heart to see people getting moved by his songs, and it could not be said enough.

She was startled out of her musings by the sound of the doorbell. Whoever was on the other side of the door was obviously in a rush if the frantic ringing of the doorbell was any indication. Rukia wiped her face of any tears and fixed her clothes, placing the velvet box hastily on top of the dresser drawer before running out of the bedroom to see who was at the door.

"Coming," she shouted, making her way to the genkan. Rukia pulled open the door and saw a very pleasant surprise.

Right outside her door stood a tall man in a shirt, jeans and a black leather jacket. Despite the beanie on his head and the dark-tinted glasses over his eyes—which she knew had probably given him hell as he rode the subway (he would _never_ take his car to visit her, else people would start wondering why Kurosaki Ichigo's car was seen leaving Tokyo to go to Karakura and parking at some random apartment place)—Rukia had no reason to doubt that she knew the identity of this man.

Her brain only had time to register how the man removed his sunglasses as soon as she opened the door, before a pair of hands grabbed Rukia's face and she felt lips on hers in a powerful, possessive kiss.

* * *

Ichigo replayed his last conversation with Ichimaru inside his head as he hurriedly dressed. He removed his watch, wrist band and long-sleeved button-down shirt as he raided his closet for an ordinary white shirt and a black leather jacket. He didn't even bother glancing at how he looked in the mirror. He was frantic to get out and reach his destination soon. He walked over to the part of his walk-in closet where a few garments were folded, those which Ichimaru called his _simple man_'s clothes. He threw a few clothes haphazardly on the ground in search of his beanie, no longer minding the mess he was creating. His hand came in contact with a knitted piece of garment and hastily pulled it out from under more piles of clothes, revealing his black beanie. The Kurosaki Ichigo, fashion icon and Japan's hottest star of year, without hesitation pulled the beanie over his bright orange locks, not caring if his mane would look like a mess later on. He reached for the darkest pair of tinted sunglasses in a nearby glass drawer as he made his way to the door, grabbed his keys, and went out.

He had but one goal in mind –to see his wife. The conversation with Ichimaru continued to plague his mind as he opened the fire escape of Shinsō Residences and hurriedly ran down the stairs.

"_Ya know," Ichimaru, who now sat in his chair again, lightly drummed his fingers on the table, "I oughtta punish ya for this…insolence."_

_Ichigo froze in his seat at this, clearly caught off guard thinking the conversation had been over moments prior._

"_Let's see…" Ichimaru feigned deep thought. "Well, I can have yer wife's scholarship revoked."_

_A frown steadily made it way on Ichigo's face, and try as he might, the orange-haired star couldn't stop it._

"_Or," the silver-haired man raised a pointer finger in the air, as if proud of his idea, "…I can have her stipend suspended." He grimly smiled, reaching for the phone on his table, a sign that whatever it was he wanted accomplished was just a phone call away. "Which do ya like better, Ichigo?"_

_Ichigo willed himself to calm down. He knew he was already in hot water in this one, and causing more trouble wouldn't help matters at all. Besides, stubborn as he was, Ichigo could admit that he did something out of line by breaking one of Ichimaru's most important rules. Matters involving his wife just didn't sit well with him._

_Ichigo weighed the options carefully. It wasn't so bad, to be honest. Apart from the bank account Ichimaru managed for him—one that he would only get after his contract ends so his handler could track his expenses—he had some savings of his own from some of the smaller gigs. It would probably be enough to pay the remaining years Rukia had left for college. It would also probably be enough to sustain her daily needs for a few months, given that Rukia wasn't really that much of a spender to begin with. Ichigo was about to open his mouth when unexpectedly, Ichimaru gave a third and final option._

"_Better yet, why don't I just make sure none of her works," Ichimaru leaned back on his chair as Ichigo stiffened, fearing what was to come. "…ever get published?" the famous producer finished, looking quite pleased with himself._

_The stunned look on Ichigo's face was all it took for Ichimaru to gauge how unexpected this was for the boy. "Surprised aren't ya? I know everything ya been doin' behind my back, Kurosaki."_

_Ichigo was speechless as he sat very still in his chair. Suddenly, it felt like there wasn't enough air inside the room. He fingered the collar of his shirt as sweat accumulated on his forehead. The silence greatly unnerved him, and he was so, very afraid at the moment. Afraid for his wife, afraid for himself, afraid __**of**__ Ichimaru. He took shuddering breaths to compose himself and try to talk his boss out of the third option._

"_Ichimaru-san—"_

_A chuckle shattered Ichigo's train of thought as the brown-eyed man gave his boss a disbelieving stare._

"_Ya should've seen yer face, Ichigo. Ya looked like yer gonna piss yer pants." The silver-haired man grinned wildly in amusement. "Ya know I wouldn't do that Ichigo—that'd be so, __**so**__ cruel."_

_The orange-head sighed in relief as he awkwardly tried to laugh with his boss. Though in truth, he wouldn't really put it past his boss to take such drastic measures if he ever messed up again._

_Ichimaru suddenly stood up from his comfy leather couch, immediately alarming Ichigo. "Well Ichigo, ya got the rest of the day off. Why don't ya go see that wife of yers so ya don't have ta go sneakin' around? Ya do know there'd be…consequences, if ya get caught again, right? So be sure to hide well," he said, playfully singing the last part._

Ichigo didn't waste another second after that and hurriedly left the office, overcome by the strong urge to see his wife.

To an outsider, it would've sounded like Ichimaru generously granting Ichigo permission to spend the day with his wife, but Ichigo knew better; in Ichimaru-speak, it meant one thing—_tell her what I said_. And in Ichigo-speak, it was translated into one, sorrowful word—_goodbye_.

* * *

Rukia was overwhelmed by the passion behind Ichigo's kisses. Her mind was reeling at the emotions she felt all at once. Of course there was surprise at seeing her husband standing there outside their apartment door; and then there was a little bit of confusion, some excitement and above all, heart-wrenching bliss. She barely registered the sound of their apartment door locking behind the tall figure who was kissing her senseless, not letting an inch of space come between them. She had questions—why was he there? what was he doing? was there something wrong?—but her brain refused to do anything other than tell her body to respond accordingly to her husband's eager lips and heated touch.

Soon, she felt the need for air and tugged lightly at Ichigo's orange locks, not wanting the moment to end but having to succumb to her body's natural need. Ichigo's lips left hers as Rukia took a deep shaky breath, one that turned into a moan as she felt her husband give lavish attention on her creamy neck. Their hands were all over each other, stripping articles of clothing that hindered them from touching each other's bare skin. Rukia didn't know how, but soon, she felt the bed behind her knees as Ichigo continued to ravish her body, kissing every bit of skin he could see—her cheeks, her neck, her fingertips—oh her fingertips that he had kissed so sweetly, one by one—her exposed chest, everywhere. She felt herself being lowered slowly on to the mattress of their bed, Ichigo's arms cushioning her head as he leaned his body over hers and continued his assault.

Oh how she missed this, how she missed him. For now, the questions would have to wait. For now, they weren't rockstar and secret spouse. They were just Ichigo and Rukia. Husband and wife.

* * *

Ichimaru played with his pen as he sat staring outside the window of his office. "So he's there already huh?" he said into the phone. "That was fast. Probably took the subway to avoid getting his car spotted by the press." He paused for a while, listening to the other line. His hand reached the top compartment of his drawer and opened it, withdrawing several pieces of what seemed like photos. He stared at a particular picture of a certain raven-haired woman exiting the Shinsō Residences, her face clearly seen in the camera. His eyes travelled towards the file he gave the orange-haired kid earlier, where a photo of the same woman's back was pinned. "No, no. Why would I punish him for the stupid pictures _I ordered taken?_ I am not that cruel," he smiled conspiratorially. "Plus, didn't anyone ever tell ya, if ya show them how good ya are, they'll feel like they become more indebted to ya. Soon, he's gonna be just a loyal little puppy followin' whatever his master says."

* * *

**A/N:** So did anyone get that Ichimaru was scaring Ichigo by showing her a picture of Rukia's back when he clearly had some with her face shown or did I mess up the explanation? Anyhoo, sorry for any confusion. Someone pointed out to me before that there probably has to be some UST between the two since they _are a married couple. _But I am unsure about writing a lemon, so I'll probably just leave that as it is for now.

Thanks for reading everyone, and again, sorry for the long wait. Will work on the next chapter ASAP. Shameless plug: follow me on twitter to get updates on my writing as well as RL. (/cheeky_wicky) Please leave me a review! Have a good day!


	6. Chapter 6

So I finally gave myself a deadline. While I was writing this, I had a two-hour long playlist ongoing, which served two purposes: to feed my muse, and as my timer. There were so many times I just wanted to stop writing and go to sleep (I'm doing this around 10 pm), but it would be so unfair to you guys for me to just drop writing like that because I'm too lazy to make use of my brain. So here I am.

I'm trying out a new way of writing where I directly type the story instead of writing it down on paper first (the latter makes me think better, but it eats so much of my time when I have to type it afterwards). Tell me if you felt any shift in the tone of my writing. :D I finished watching the Full House drama, and I totally want to write/read a story that **closely **follows that storyline. Please, if anyone plans to write one, tell me and I promise to faithfully read it! Or maybe I can write one? Dangerous line of thought right there. New fic = more responsibility = less time to write for other fics. :O

So in this chapter, I'm trying to show the weight of Ichigo's career. So far, I think I was able to **unintentionally** portray Ichigo as someone who was just forced to work for his wife and future family. Kudos to everyone who noticed the recurring "…but he actually enjoys performing" statements I've been including in the previous chapters. I'd like to make it clear that Ichigo indeed loves his job, and let's try to put ourselves in his shoes for a bit. He's a star, he has a **big name**. He worked hard to attain the level of stardom he is in now, and anyone would be so sad to see those years of hard work come tumbling down. He has fans, people who support him, who love him. Him, a simple small town boy. We need to understand that a performer cannot last in the industry if he doesn't enjoy what he is doing in the least bit. So we can't judge Ichigo for being sad about thoughts of giving up his career.

To those who said they miss the IchiRuki fluff, this chapter is ALL IchiRuki, one that we may not see for quite some time after this. XD

Again, thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter! It gave me enough motivation to update within the week, so yay! XD There were a few people whose messaging options were blocked, so I'm sorry I wasn't able to reply to your reviews. And of course, the anonymous reviewers! I'd also like to thank the alerts and faves I've been getting for this story. THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE!

Slight OOC-ness is there somewhere. Forgive me if my grammar sucked—English isn't my mother tongue, and no, I still don't have a beta reader.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. **Raining **is a song by the Korean rock band, **FT Island.**

* * *

Ichigo stared at the sleeping form of his wife, lying peacefully beside him on their small bed. His thoughts went back to his earlier encounter with his boss, and he was trying so hard to shove them into the very back of his mind so he could fully enjoy the stolen moment he had with his wife. But no matter how hard he tried, Ichimaru's words kept coming to the very forefront of his head. The orange-haired star shook his head as his hand reached over to caress Rukia's face. The petite woman unconsciously smiled at the contact and settled deeper into the pillow, currently ignorant of her husband's inner struggles. Ichigo smiled gently as his eyes roved over her face, her body under the thin blanket, her hands clenching the edge of the pillow beneath her head…the long lashes that cast shadows on her soft cheeks, her cute little nose, her pink lips. Gods, he loved this tiny woman. Everything about her drove him insane. Sure, she had so many moments where she seemed to truly enjoy driving him to the wall, or make him want to just put his hand over her mouth to shut her up. But this very same loud woman was the person who accepted him completely and welcomed him into her life with open arms. It took the two of them a long time to accept the romantic feelings they had for each other. But once they finally acknowledged them, it took them no time at all to act on those feelings.

People often thought it was a mistake for them to get married at such a young age. Straight from high school, still living with his dad and sisters—those weren't exactly the best circumstances for two people to get married in. There had been rumors about Rukia getting knocked up, and the Kurosaki family trying to save face by getting the two teenagers married before the child was born, but that rumor eventually died down when a few months passed and Rukia's stomach showed no signs of growing. The old people in their street who knew the two either admired the couple's obvious affections for each other despite the two teens' discomfort of public displays, or speculated how long the relationship was going to last. Ichigo and Rukia knew this, and to be honest, they had personal doubts about the relationship too, though neither ever voiced them out. They were already living together, and admittedly loved each other very much that they felt it was only logical they take the final step into becoming an official couple in the eyes of God and the law. And so they got married, and it was the happiest day of their lives. The first few days had been awkward, with Rukia constantly doubting her abilities to become a good wife. Ichigo wondered why Rukia seemed to be avoiding him for the first few days of marriage, until he figured out that Rukia was having self-esteem issues, issues he knew came from her sad childhood. He had comforted her, assuring the petite woman that she would not only be a good wife, but a great mother. Things went smoothly after that, and aside from some monetary problems, the two actually enjoyed their time together.

It felt like they've known each other forever, but it was only now that Ichigo realized how short a time they had actually spent with each other. Sure, they've been friends for a few years before marriage, but they weren't even able to fully bask in the joys of married life before his career got in the way. He didn't want to be one of those husbands who neglected their wives because of work. He promised himself he wouldn't be like that, but he didn't allow a margin of expectation that he would be in this line of industry. Show business, a line of industry that required so much of his time, and his concentration, and his efforts. And now, against his heart's desires, he was slowly becoming one of those husbands. It wasn't like he didn't take any allowed opportunity he could to talk to her, it was just that there weren't so many of them to begin with, what with the restrictions his boss set, all on top of his busy schedule. Ichigo closed his eyes as he took a big, shuddering breath.

Three years. Three more years til his contract with GIE expires and he could be free. It hurt him to think that his career would last but a pitiful five years, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter, not if he wanted his marriage to work. His mind conjured up images of his supporters, smiling wildly and crying and singing with him and swaying and waving their hands in the air—images that gave him joy. He thought of all the well wishes, the gifts, the touching messages of his fans—it felt great to be so loved. He didn't want to sound narcissistic or self-absorbed, but he really feels absolutely blissful when he sees the effect he has on his fans. It was incredibly gratifying, to know that all his hard work was being accepted openly by people who didn't really personally know him, but would willingly offer their undying support, and defend him in whatever issues he faced.

But all those heartfelt smiles from strangers were but faded images in comparison to his wife. He couldn't fully enjoy those moments knowing that somewhere in Karakura, the petite woman was hurting for being so far away from him. Maybe…maybe Ichimaru-san could allow him to be open about his marriage after his first contract expires. And then…and then he could continue to make music and be with his wife at the same time. Ichigo could only hope.

Waving those depressing thoughts away, Ichigo looked at the clock on the wall. It read 4:15 pm. It was still fairly early. The bed creaked as he slowly got off, taking his discarded pants off the floor and putting them on. His brown eyes roamed the room, taking note of the changes in it, focusing on one in particular, which was the large framed picture hanging in the wall right in front of the bed. He eyed the picture of him and his wife, both wearing white because she had insisted on it, with large genuine smiles on their lips as they stared at each other, instead of at the camera even as the photographer insisted. They just couldn't keep their eyes (and hands) off each other that day.

His thoughts were startled by the distant ringing of the phone in the living room. He chanced a quick glance at Rukia to check if the woman's sleep was disturbed, and after seeing her calm breathing, he distractedly made his way out of the bedroom, walking towards the phone. The thing continued to ring, and without further thought of how it was a big risk to answer Rukia's calls (who could it be anyway? His dad? Yuzu? Karin? Their friends? People who already knew about them?), Ichigo lifted the phone.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, before a hesitant "Is this Rukia's phone?" was heard from the caller.

Ichigo blinked a few times, trying to place the voice in his head. Nope. He didn't know this person…this _guy._ "Yeah, w-who is this?"

The orange-haired man heard shuffling noises before the caller cleared his throat, sounding more certain of himself now. "This is Kanō Ashido, her editor."

His brown eyes lit up. Oh, her editor. The possessive man in him momentarily questioned why Rukia never mentioned anything about this guy, before he realized he hadn't spoken to her since she got accepted by Yoruichi-san. "Rukia's sleeping right now, can I take a message?"

There was a slight pause and Ichigo wondered if the line was cut. And then the guy replied, "No that's okay, I'll call her later. We have to talk about her latest manuscript."

The orange-haired man absently scratched the back of his head. "Okay."

"Who is this, by the way?"

Ichigo was surprised at the bluntness of the question, and his eyes narrowed as warning signals flashed in his head.

"This is her—" he paused, gaining a hold of himself. He knew Yoruichi thought Rukia was single. Darnit, he should've suggested she tell everyone she was married, and that her husband was away. Probably in the army or abroad or whatever. Anything but single. Ichigo cleared his throat. "This is her boyfriend."

There was another uncomfortable stretch of silence. "I see. Please tell her I called. Thank you."

And then the line went dead.

Ichigo stared at the phone worriedly as he put it back in its cradle. He placed his hands in his pockets as he made his way back to the bedroom, immediately focusing on his still peacefully slumbering wife. He dismissed the unwanted thoughts in his brain as he smiled and turned back to watching the room, eyes falling on a small velvet box sitting on top of the dresser with a pulled-out compartment. He knew what it was, and his eyes softened at the thought of Rukia holding the box and thinking of him. His gaze travelled back to his wife, and a resolve formed in his head. He took the box and plucked out its only content, wearing the ring on his finger without hesitation. His steps were sure as he walked towards the bed, sitting right next to Rukia as he leaned over, sweeping her hair back so he could gain access to her neck. He drew nearer, leaving a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her cheek.

"Rukia," he whispered. "Wake up. Rukia." His hands drew lazy circles on her stomach as he continued to kiss her all over, smiling in satisfaction as she groaned and rolled over to look at him.

He couldn't help but grin at the adorably annoyed expression on her face for being awakened in the middle of a very peaceful sleep. "Get up, sleepy-head. We're going out."

* * *

Rukia wasn't sure it was a wise thing to do, them going out in public. She eyed the beanie on his head and the large sunglasses on his face with distrust, as if expecting the inanimate objects to sabotage their plans. Ichigo left his leather jacket back at her apartment, donning just his simple white shirt and jeans, holding her hand as they walked towards the commercial district of Karakura. She saw a few knowing glances from the neighbors who knew them, and Rukia only had time to feel grateful for the neighbors' support and willingness to keep their secret before her hand was tugged by her husband, urging her to walk faster.

Ichigo's brown eyes, hidden behind the dark tint of his glasses, was looking left and right. He wasn't sure about this little trip either, and he knew there'd be hell to pay if word got back to Ichimaru about him spending a day out with his wife. But his resolve was already made—today, just for today, the husband and wife would do what married couples like them do. They'd spend time together and eat outside and just enjoy each other's presence.

So far, they'd already been to the ice cream parlor and shared a large serving of the cold dessert, and then gave a visit to her favourite Chappy store, where she looked on wit undeniable fascination at the new items on sale, yet refused to let Ichigo buy them, calling them "unnecessary" purchases, which surprised the hell out of Ichigo. He knew his wife was only being practical, but his heart jolted at the thought of what other sacrifices Rukia might have been giving up for the two of them.

He was so lost in thought that he was taken by surprise when Rukia stopped walking. He immediately surveyed his surroundings and saw that they were in front of the small Karakura Cinema. Ichigo raised his eyebrow questioningly, not that Rukia could see it behind his glasses, but the petite woman knew him well enough to feel his confusion.

"I wanna watch your movie."

Ichigo blinked. His last movie was shown at least five months ago. His head swivelled towards the "Now Showing" list and saw that indeed, his last film was playing in this theater. It was then that it hit him he was in Karakura, a small town that doesn't always get to follow the trend in Tokyo and in other major cities in Japan.

"Plus it's dark inside, so no one would notice you," he heard Rukia say.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head. He knew his wife meant well, thinking it was better for him to stay in places where his identity wouldn't be compromised, like this cinema where it'd be dark inside. What his wife forgot to take into account was that he was wearing sunglasses to conceal his identity, and it would look ridiculous for someone with sunglasses to enter the dark theatre, which means a few short seconds out in the open with his identity exposed. There was quite a number of people lined up in the ticket booth, all getting tickets for his movie. A surge of pride and joy took over his body, getting overwhelmed by the support of his fellow townsmen. He looked back at his wife and saw her sparkling violet eyes, smiling at him. Oh, screw it.

"Not that I particularly like enjoying watching myself in the large screen, but okay. Let's go."

Rukia grinned and readily lined up for the ticket booth. As soon as she got them, she lined up for the entrance to the theatre, looking expectantly at Ichigo who stood a few feet away from the crowd. Rukia frowned a little, confused. "What are you doing just standing there?"

Ichigo hesitantly approached her and leaned into her ear, whispering in the softest voice he could for fear of being heard by the people on all sides of Rukia.

"I have to wait til everyone gets in before I can get in myself. You don't see people with sunglasses entering the theatre, do you?" He nervously chuckled.

Rukia's eyes dimmed a little. Oh, she had unwittingly caused her husband unease. 'How stupid can you be, Rukia?' she mentally berated herself. "Well we can do something else—"

"No, no," Ichigo interrupted. "It's fine." He took one ticket from Rukia's hands and left the line. "Just reserve me a seat and I'll come find you." He left the line and walked towards the concession stand, purchasing popcorn and soda to buy time before entering the theater.

The doors to the cinema soon opened and Rukia went in with the crowd, searching for an inconspicuous corner where she and Ichigo could watch without being detected. She usually liked watching in the middle, not too close to the screen, and not too far either. Not in the right, not in the left, but in between where she could fully enjoy the film. Today however, she'd just have to compromise and pick a seat at the very edge of the theater. She sat down at the very far left of the cinema and placed her bag on the seat beside her, waiting for her husband to show up.

Ichigo watched as the last few people on the line entered the theater. He went to the ticket-checking counter and gave his ticket to the lady as he removed his sunglasses. In the process, however, the ears of his sunglasses unintentionally displaced his beanie, and a few tufts of his orange hair showed. He immediately reached for his beanie to put it back in place, avoiding eye contact with the ticket person who returned the other half of his ticket to him. He missed the gasp of one other person behind the ticket lady as he hurriedly made his way towards the already dark theater.

* * *

Rukia was stifling her laughter all throughout the film, not because the film was funny—it was a psychological thriler, thank goodness, not romance—but because she couldn't help but feel giddy at being able to watch Ichigo on the big screen and sit beside him watching himself at the same time. Seeing Ichigo cringe in some of his scenes, probably not liking how it turned out or remembering the filming experience, was definitely a plus. The credits soon rolled and they stood up, this time immediately blending in with the crowd, Ichigo keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone. He reached for his sunglasses as soon as the door to the cinema was close, but the pushing crowd who apparently was excited to exit the theater made him drop the stupid glasses. Nevermind, it was already dark outside anyway, so no one would probably recognize him, and he could buy one on the way home. Rukia and Ichigo squeezed their way out of the crowd when, upon reaching the door, they and a few other members of the crowd were immediately blinded by flashing lights and deafened by shrill screams.

It only took the orange-haired star one "Ichigoooooo!" before he came running right off, waving off the crowd who was starting to turn their heads to see what the commotion was about. His mind was on his wife as he continued to run down the street, ignoring the screaming of his fan girls who ran after him.

Rukia blinked innocently, trying to blend in with the confused crowd. Most of the people had started whispering and giggling; they couldn't get over the fact that _the _Kurosaki Ichigo had just graced them with his presence. Rukia discreetly sighed in relief to see that there were no official photographers in sight, just fans who got wind of him being in the cinema. She smiled as she continued on her way home, stopping by a shop to purchase new dark-tinted glasses for her husband.

* * *

The closing of the door caught Ichigo's attention as he swung around from his perch on the sofa to stare at his wife, laughing, making her way towards him. He scowled at her obvious amusement of the situation, and decided against telling her it wasn't a laughing matter had there been a professional photographer from the Media present. Which she probably already knew, judging by the mirth in her violet orbs. He sighed in resignation as he settled back into the sofa, opening his arms as Rukia settled beside him.

"You enjoy tormenting me a little bit too much."

Rukia laughed as she chucked a bag in his stomach. Ichigo gasped at the surprise attack before taking hold of the bag. He opened it and saw…surprise, surprise: Chappy-shaped sunglasses from the woman who earlier refused to purchase any "unnecessary" Chappy items. Oh yes, they were dark-tinted sunglasses, whose frame was the outline of a rabbit. And the frame was yellow. Seriously, who the hell makes stuff like these for grown people? Ichigo knew his wife was just teasing him, but he was deeply touched by her perceptiveness and thoughtfulness. He had been worried about getting out and purchasing new glasses before he went back to Tokyo later that night, for fear of getting spotted again. Turns out he didn't need to, because Rukia had seen his need and tended to it.

The dark night sky and the glowing moon outside their apartment window reminded Ichigo that his time was running out. He closed the bag and set it aside, giving his full attention on the petite woman who was looking at him, confused at the loss of complaint for being given such a ridiculous pair of sunglasses—not to her, of course, she thought they were cute, but she also knew he didn't see it the way she did.

Rukia was taken aback at the intensity of Ichigo's gaze. The mirth and amusement she had felt earlier slowly drained as she was filled with dread. Whatever it was that was coming, it couldn't be good. Not if Ichigo looked at her like he was…like he was memorizing every single details of her face. Not even the warmth of his hands on hers was enough to comfort her. And neither were the words that came from his lips.

"We...we can't see each other anymore. Completely."

* * *

A/N: The cinema part was inspired by a statement that Ji-eun (Song Hye Kyo) said in Full House about Young-Jae (Rain) not being able to come in a theater until all the lights are closed for fear of being recognized.

So how is this going to work? Not being able to see your spouse for years? Hmm, I know you all can see several complications coming. XD

I hope you enjoyed seeing the thoughtfulness of Rukia as a wife. I think it's cute. :D Not much in this chapter, but we're moving! Will TRY to work on the next chapter as soon as I can. No promises as to when it'll be out. :D

Thank you for reading! Please leave me a review! It soooo feeds my muse better than any type of music can. XD Have a great day everyone!


	7. Chapter 7

This is the third consecutive Friday I've updated, so yay! I've been overwhelmed by the amount of thought you guys have been putting into the plot of this fic. People have been thinking how they could still communicate with each other, and other stuff that'd help their relationship. I'd say the previous chapter was meant to be a little…misleading. But I can't give much deets away.

I was playing around with the Story Traffic tab in my account page, and I just found out I have readers from all around the world! Hello Guatemala, Belgium, Mauritius, Irag, Morocco, Romania, Finland, Korea, Thailand, Venezuela, Chile, France, Japan and so many others! It feels great to be able to reach so many people across the globe! And apparently, most of my readers come from the US, the Philippines (my home!), the UK, Indonesia, Malaysia and Canada, so hello you guys! :D

I dedicate this dearly to **Sombody Cool** for—le gasp!—volunteering to be my beta reader, although I kind of said no because I'm not yet prepared to work with someone on my stories, and so many other reasons. I soooo appreciate the offer, though. For that, I thank you so, so much!

And of course, a big, BIG thanks to all the reviews I received for the previous chapter! I love you all to bits! Some of you still have blocked messaging services so I wasn't able to reply to your reviews, but thank you! And to my dear anonymous reviewers, as well!

Slight OOC-ness is there somewhere. Forgive me if my grammar sucked—English isn't my mother tongue, and no, I still don't have a beta reader. (my fault. D:)

**This _isn't _an actual chapter, more of an interlude.** I'm thinking of doing little timeskips for the next chapter, but wanted to show you how the "goodbye" went without having to fully depend on flashbacks. So here it goes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. **Raining **is a song by the Korean rock band, **FT Island.**

* * *

Rukia stared blankly at the photo hanging on the wall as she sat listlessly on the foot of the bed. The deafening roar of thunder outside her bedroom window was but a quiet whisper in the very back of her mind. She wasn't quite sure how long she sat there, waiting. Waiting for what, she didn't know. Perhaps for things to change, or for a certain someone to be there once more, filling the lonely room with his voice, his scent, his presence. Or perhaps, she was waiting to be awakened, to be pulled far away from this horrible nightmare.

She couldn't even remember when exactly the first drops of rain began. Trivial things, all of them. She had so much more to think about than the uncontrollable spilling of water from the heavens. She heard noises outside—voices of people rushing to find shelter from the pouring rain; the pounding of boots and the clinking of heels on the cold, hard concrete; the happy chatter of little kids playing in the puddles already forming on the streets, and old women scolding them for getting their skirts wet. And suddenly, she hated them all. Rukia hated how these people could worry about very simple things; hated how her own problems didn't mean a thing to them. She hated how her problem couldn't be solved by a new pair of warm, dry boots, or the shelter of a homey café. She hated how all these people could enjoy their lives, and be free to do whatever they want and see whoever they want to.

Most of all, she hated herself. Hated herself for hating these happy people, hated herself for being so weak. Hated herself for the pain in her chest that didn't want to go away.

A drop of water fell down the hand that rested in her lap, tightly clutching the skirt of her dress. She slowly looked up the ceiling, searching in vain for a hole that she knew wasn't there. But still her eyes searched as more droplets fell on her hand, sliding down her dress, soaking her skirt. She hated the futility of it, the search for a hole that didn't exist, the endless amount of paper on her desk that contained her stupid old manuscripts, her marriage... But still, she hated herself more for hoping.

And the tears in her eyes continued to flow.

* * *

Ichigo sighed as he looked outside the window of the subway car at the dark night sky, as droplets upon droplets of rain fell and slid down the glass. It was late, and not many others were on the train with him. His mind continued to replay his previous conversation with his wife against his will. He hated how the past few hours had been all about unwanted conversations, and how all of them were stuck inside his head, slowly driving him insane. He hated how almost all his conversations with people lately had resulted in pain. He tried to conjure up an instance where he was engaged in a light-hearted chatter without the usual restrictions, just being himself and sharing laughs with people he cared about. Still, he couldn't shake the thought of his last talk with his wife, one that he hoped they could've handled better. The blank look on her face was one that would haunt him for a really long time. And it wasn't the best memory to part ways with.

_"We...we can't see each other anymore. Completely."_

_Rukia blinked as she tried to process what her husband was trying to say. She already knew that, that they were forbidden to see each other. It wasn't an issue she liked talking about with anyone, especially not with him. She always found it more awkward and sadder to discuss this matter with him than with other people who offer their pity to a wife that was left by a husband for work. So why was he telling her this…again?_

"_I-I know Ichigo, if this is about me visiting you in your…pad," she had a hard time getting the last word out. She hated calling his residence a bachelor pad, but it was what it was, and Ichimaru Gin himself furnished it for Ichigo, "…I-I promise never to do that again without you knowing first. I'm sorry."_

_Ichigo's eyes softened; he could see his wife avoiding eye contact with him, clearly ashamed of her actions. It hurt him to think his wife was sorry for being concerned about his wellbeing to the point of dropping by his place to check on him, even when they both knew it was forbidden. He took her chin in his hand and made her face him, trying to convey with his brown orbs feelings that words weren't enough to deliver._

"_Rukia. things with work have been…complicated lately." Ichigo struggled with words as he tried to think of something to say that would make his point, but lighten the impact on his wife. "I've been receiving so many offers, soaps, movies, ads…Ichimaru-san has been very extra-protective of me and my…career. He's doing everything he can so that I never get any bad publicity, you know. He's working hard trying to stop all those magazines and tabloids from publishing bad stuff about me, and I…I feel that it's time to help him."_

_Rukia could already feel her heart breaking at the inevitable end of this conversation, but still, she nodded strongly, trying to hide her weakness from his eyes._

"_I-I can't take any more risks, you know?" The orange-haired man said, dropping his wife's hands with a faraway look in his eyes as he looked outside their bedroom window, absently noting the thick grey clouds in the nighttime sky. "You…you understand, right?"_

_The raven-haired woman stifled a sob as she turned to look at the window as well, forcing a smile on her face. "Of course, idiot. It's not like anything changes anyway. I mean, we don't see each other all that often anyway, so…" She realized too late that it wasn't the best thing to say at the moment, as she took a deep, shuddering breath behind her hand._

_Ichigo nodded, keeping his gaze on the dark night sky as he listened to his wife struggling with her emotions. "We can't go sneaking around anymore, but I still get to call you often."_

_Both parties knew that was a lie, because he wasn't always able to call her, not when his schedule was unpredictable and most of his work was at night, while hers was in the morning and he didn't really want to bother her much needed rest. But for now, it was all they had._

"_I can go set up a computer in my place so we can see each other when we talk." He faked a laugh as reached for one of Rukia's hands again, drawing circles on her palm, without meeting her eyes. "And of course, you'll still watch all my concerts, right?" Ichigo felt a weight on his shoulder and automatically wrapped an arm around his wife's body, pulling her closer, nuzzling her hair as she quietly sobbed in his chest. He rubbed her back as he kissed the top of her head, willing himself to be strong for the both of them. "It's okay. Before we know it, it's all over."_

_Both hearts wished it wasn't their marriage to go down first._

Ichigo checked his cell phone for the time. It was almost 11 pm. Ichimaru-san had called him in the middle of their conversation, asking him to go home _if he still wasn't _because the next day was his first shooting day for HanaDan. Ichigo relented, wanting to stop the emotional torment he was putting his wife through.

_The orange-haired man stood up and rearranged his clothes, grabbing onto the bag where his wife's purchase for him lay._

"_I have to go. But I'll call you, okay? And please, if anything happens, call m—call my dad or Yuzu or Karin. They…they'll know how to reach me."_

_Rukia nodded and smiled. And Ichigo knew it wasn't the defeated kind, or a hopeless one. It was a brave smile, one that he had come to admire in his wife. But the sight of it did nothing to alleviate the sting in his chest. They soon reached the front door of the apartment, with Ichigo standing a few steps outside as Rukia stayed by the door. She handed him an old umbrella as she prepared herself for the inevitable goodbye._

"_This is farewell, Ichigo." Her violet eyes took in the sad look in his brown orbs as he just stood there, staring at her._

"_Seems so."He placed the tips of his fingers inside his pants pockets, while still clutching the umbrella and the bag. He knew he was, at this point, just trying to delay what was sure to come._

_Rukia bowed her head, momentarily seizing eye contact as she thought of what else to say. Reminders of what to eat, when to eat, the need to eat… How he should take time to rest and sleep, all of these entered her mind, but she just couldn't force herself to say them. She hated how these reminders sounded so…final. Like she wouldn't see him again, ever. And she hated that feeling. She slowly raised her head and looked at him, at her husband, for the last time in who knows how long._

_Their eyes met and held each other—his trying not to show his weakness, and hers filled with hesitation and reluctance. She just couldn't let go._

"_Tell everyone I give them my best." It was but mindless chatter, but they wanted to cherish every last second._

_And those words did it. Rukia knew it was time. "Okay."_

_Rukia started to walk back in, slowly closing the door._

"_Goodbye Rukia," she heard before the door was sealed. "Thank you."_

Ichigo stared at the ring on his finger, a ring he refused to remove for now, because it was the representation of all that had been right in his life. He knew the tears were coming, but he made no move to stop them. They were way overdue. And as he felt the first few drops, his hand searched for the bag he was carrying around, fishing out a weird, yellow-framed bunny sunglasses. And he didn't care how people would react as he proudly wore them, laughing by himself as he tried to wipe the wetness in his cheeks.

There was still a long road ahead of him that he had to take. For now, he decided he would focus on his work. It would all be over soon. It had to be.

* * *

A/N: The last part of the goodbye was taken directly from Chapter 423, and I had that open while I was typing this, and it broke my heart.

I hope Rukia comes back in the manga soon. It's been so long! Anyhoo, thank you so much for reading, and sorry for disappointing you that this isn't an actual chapter. I'll see you guys in the next update, hopefully! Have a great day! =)


	8. Chapter 8

Hi everyone! I know I missed two weeks in a row. Some of you who've been keeping in contact with me during that time know that I started work (third week now), and I have to come to the office 6 days a week, 9 hours a day. I don't get to accomplish much during Sundays (my only rest day, oh woe!) and I head straight to bed when I get home from work. But last Friday, there was sooo much free time at work that I finally got around to typing this, although the office really isn't such a nice place to do some thinking about fanfic stuff (my head's already hurting just doing this pre-chapter notes), so I only finished the introductory paragraph. Everything else was done today.

Moving on. The first year anniversary of this fic has come and gone. I think it'll take me another year to finish this (let's all hope that's not the case). And ooh, my angst fic for last year's father's day, "Like Father, Like Son" just also celebrated its first year anniversary! How time flies!

Soooo this chapter is dedicated to **deathstrawberry**, an FFN/facebook friend! :D Anyhoo, thank you so much for all the reviews and alerts and faves I've been receiving. I can't thank you guys enough. I love you all to the tiniest smithereens! :D

I honestly have no idea how publishing works, so I'm basing this all on how they did it in the Full House drama.

Breezing through the next several months. Just a post-separation type of chapter. Here we go.

Slight OOC-ness is there somewhere. Forgive me if my grammar sucked—English isn't my mother tongue. But I do have a beta reader, I just haven't started working with her yet. Hi **Sombody Cool**! :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. **Raining **is a song by the Korean rock band, **FT Island.**

* * *

Rukia dropped her bag onto the bed as she rummaged through her purchases. There was a soft smile on her face as she fished out a square plastic case out of a paper bag. On the front of the CD case she held was the image of four boys and a girl, all lying on a grass field as they portrayed varying degrees of nonchalance as the four boys had their eyes closed, while the caramel-haired girl looked at an unknown object from a distance. The words "Hana Yori Dango" was written, bold and red, above the picture. Rukia's eyes were glued to a single male figure who lied beside the only woman, his eyes closed solemnly, his orange hair bright against the green grass. Fingers caressed the cold, hard, shiny surface of the plastic case as she walked towards her bedside, where several other compact disks sat in a rack. Truthfully, she had no intention of ever playing the soundtrack album, but she felt like buying it made her that much closer to Ichigo.

It has been three months since she last saw Ichigo face to face. He was true to his words, though. The orange-haired man called every now and then, mostly in hushed whispers during what she deduced was a short break from a shooting for HanaDan, which she had been faithfully following since its debut on television a month ago.

The separation hit her hard, but contrary to what some people thought about her, Rukia didn't cry herself to sleep for weeks, and neither did she wallow in self-pity. True, she didn't get out of her house for days, and her neighbors (the very few who were aware of her _real _situation) were all worried that the petite woman was making herself sick, cooping herself up inside her apartment like that. Some had even called only to hear the message pre-recorded on the answering machine, slipped letters of concern under the door, knocked or rang the doorbell, and even left bread baskets and grocery items outside the apartment door. All of them were left unanswered.

It wasn't until Isshin, Yuzu and Karin themselves paid the petite woman a visit did the door to her apartment open, the first time in five days. Rukia opened the door visibly taken aback at their presence. She wore a large sweater (the Kurosaki's was certain it was Ichigo's), and her pyjama pants, and her hair was messy, tied in a loose bun behind her head, several strands sticking out every which way. Yuzu was so ready to console her sister-in-law had it not been for the hand that rested on her shoulder as soon she opened her mouth to speak. It was her dad's, who was looking at Rukia with a soft smile on his face, very unlike his usual boisterous attitude. Yuzu turned her head to look at Karin, and saw that her dark-haired twin was smirking, the opposite of the solemn look she had been wearing moments prior. Yuzu finally turned to face the raven-haired woman who welcomed them into the apartment, and saw something in her eyes the young girl didn't expect to see. The orange-haired Kurosaki girl actually readied herself for an emotional conversation with her sister-in-law, but looking at her brother's wife now, Yuzu could safely say the woman didn't need any form of consolation. Though there was an obvious drop in her spirit, there was also a light in Rukia's eyes the Kurosaki's thought would die after hearing from Ichigo himself that he had been forbidden from having any form of physical contact with his wife.

Entering the apartment made them realize why. Yuzu's heart ached at the sight of balled up papers scattered across the small living room, leaving a visible trail they could trace towards the unlit bedroom, the only light coming from the laptop monitor glaring at them through the open door.

Rukia was immersing herself in work, writing her ass off for the past five days. It didn't even appear as though she knew how long she had been inside, and that several of her neighbors had expressed concern over her well-being, because she was surprised when they told her about it. The thought had almost brought Yuzu to tears, but what truly triggered the water works was when Rukia smiled at the young girl. Yuzu truly admired her sister-in-law's bravery. She was so ashamed for breaking down like that, when she herself should have been brave for the petite woman. The Kurosaki's left the house with warm hugs and an exchange of reassurances that somehow, it will all get better soon.

Since then, Rukia had devoted herself to her work. Finishing several manuscripts in the span of three months. Most of them were still rejected, but some of them had shown good signs of progress. She had been submitting most of her work via email to Ashido, who patiently read every single one of them. After the first month of being allowed to stay at home (filing a mortifying one-month sick leave but still promising to work at home to a very understanding Yoruichi to whom Rukia would forever be grateful for, and it wasn't like she was actually required to come to the office all the time), Rukia finally got into the routine of going out once again, not only to buy groceries like she had done during her "sick leave", but actually coming back to the office to submit printed copies of her latest works, and then discussing them with Ashido, or Yoruichi herself if the former was unavailable.

She kept herself rather busy. Still, that didn't mean she never thought about her husband. As a matter of fact, she had taken to decorating their bedroom with posters and random photos of him. She had every single full-length albums and EP's he ever released; she also purchased copies of all the movies and Jdramas he ever starred in, as soon as they were released in record stores. She made sure to watch all his guest appearances in whatever talk show, and keep track of award nominations he was getting. And now, as she stood looking around the room that was bright with pictures of an orange-haired man, Rukia playfully laughed at herself thinking, "So now I've become a fan eh?"

And though there was the familiar burning sensation in the back of her eyes, Rukia couldn't help but smile happily, knowing that Ichigo was doing what he liked, and probably thinking of her, too.

* * *

"And cut!"

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair as a crew member ran towards him with a bottle of water and a towel as the orange-haired man walked towards a nearby bench. They were shooting the last few episodes of HanaDan, and he was happy with the way things were going. The ratings of the station sky-rocketed during its première and remained consistent every single airing. The whole staff had celebrated the audience's great reception of the show.

Ichigo's career as well as his co-actors' had blossomed so well that each of them gained a larger fanbase and more fame. He had also become good friends with his co-workers, especially Hirako Shinji who played Hanazawa Rui, his on-screen best friend in HanaDan. On top of a successful Jdrama, Ichigo was set to record another mini-album by the end of the month, and maybe a Japan-wide tour by the end of the year.

Things were almost perfect. "Almost" having a lot of weight in that statement, because not having his wife by his side made things that much far from being perfect. Ichigo sighed as he rolled the ice-cold water bottle on his forehead while he looked over the school where the shoot was taking place, remembering his own high school days. Which consequently led to more thoughts of his wife. The presence of another person sitting beside him shook him out of his reverie.

"Ne, Kurosaki-kun, you did a good job in the last take!" Orihime cheerfully commented as she leaned her back against the bench, looking up as though soaking up the sunlight.

Ichigo gave a little smile at her antics. Months of working with Orihime made him realize that the girl was actually okay, although she could be weird and ditzy sometimes. She was easy-going, always happy, and had this special aura about her that made everyone around her smile at her childlike innocence. Moreover, Ichigo realized that like him, Orihime lived a restrained life. They understood what each had to go through, donning fake masks of perfection for the public, not being able to move freely and talk to anyone they liked without restrictions.

Behind the perfect princess image the actress and singer Inoue Orihime always carried was just a little girl who wanted to enjoy the beauty of life. Ichigo found out that she had weird taste in food, and that she liked eating a lot—something she couldn't do all the time because she had to watch her figure, or she'd get reprimanded. She, Ichigo, Shinji and the rest of their closest co-actors often got together for lunch or dinner outside of work to just hang out and be themselves. They've all learned about each other's true characters—how Shinji was only playfully flirty, but was actually not that interested in hooking up with girls in real life, or that Ichigo wasn't as badass and cocky as a super star was expected to be (Shinji was surprised though to find out that Ichigo's scowl was ever-present even outside of public scrutiny; the blonde thought it was part of the rock star look), and that Orihime was actually a smart girl.

"Thanks," Ichigo replied, twisting the cap off the water bottle and gulping the cold liquid. "You did well, too."

Orihime stretched her arms up, her limbs tired from hours of work. "I wanted to get done as early as I can. We've been here since dawn."

The orange-head wiped his face with the towel, sweat from the heat removing his light make-up. "Why don't you go rest inside the van? It's hot in here."

The caramel-haired woman smiled up at the sky. "But I won't get to see the beautiful, blue sky in there. Don't you see how lovely this day is, ne, Kurosaki-kun?"

From far away, Ichigo and Orihime looked every inch the perfect couple, sitting on a white bench in the middle of a vast grass field, the wind lightly blowing their tresses as birds flew overhead, the blue sky filled with the occasional puffy white clouds as the two persons who watched this scenery sat close to each other. Shinji snickered as he focused the handheld camera on the couple.

"Hey, Ichi! Hime!"

Two pairs of eyes moved towards the source of the voice, only to be faced with a shiny, round lens focused on their faces, held by the mischievous Shinji. The blonde was taking behind-the-scenes footages for the "The Making" clips they were going to include in the DVD copies of the show.

"Eh, what is this? Going all lovey-dovey off-screen eh?"

The camera was playfully swatted away by Ichigo as Orihime laughed good-naturedly at the two males' antics. Some of the crew members watched smiling among themselves by the sidelines, getting caught by the camera as it swung around.

"So, how do you guys feel about the show getting close to its end?" Shinji asked as he focused the camera on himself, suddenly going into "reporter" mode.

"Well," Ichigo leaned back into the bench, relaxing as the camera faced him again. He subconsciously placed his arm on the back of the bench, resting behind Orihime as his other hand held the water bottle from earlier. "Of course I'm sad, because you know, I've gained lots of friends during the filming of the show. But also, I'm happy, because we had a good run. And I'm pretty happy with how things are being ended in the show."

"How about you, Orihime-chan?" Shinji swung the camera in Orihime's direction.

"Like Kurosaki-kun, of course it makes me sad that the show is finally coming to an end. I mean, working with all you guys has been like a dream. It didn't even feel like work at all. I enjoyed every moment I spent with the whole staff. Still, I'm happy, because this means we're all moving on in our own separate paths, teaching other people what we have learned from each other, and telling them about our experiences and happy memories. HanaDan will always have a special place in my heart." She sighed happily, sinking into her seat, unintentionally leaning into Ichigo's arm.

"Aww Orihime-chan that's so sweet! Why don't I hug you?" The camera was swivelling around the school before finally focusing on Shinji hugging Orihime, before the blonde man faced the camera he still held in his hand and grinned, saying goodbye to his imaginary audience before turning the thing off.

"It didn't feel like work at all, my ass. You look tired, Orihime." Shinji grinned triumphantly as he sat beside the two on the bench, the crew members going back to their work after the spectacle was over.

The caramel-haired woman giggled. "No, it really didn't. I get tired of the long hours, but really, the whole thing is just too much fun to be considered work, Hirako-kun."

Ichigo remained quiet as he listened to their conversation. He was pondering over that thought Orihime said. In all honesty, despite the…_incidents _in his private life four months ago, he still managed to immensely enjoy working for this show, more than he had in any of the previous drams he had. As he looked on at his surroundings, Shinji and Orihime laughing, their other co-actors making their way towards the trio, Ichigo couldn't help but think it definitely had something to do with the company.

* * *

The shrill sound of a ringing cell phone took Rukia away from the comforts of her dreams as her head shot up from her wooden desk, her laptop open in front of her as she drooled on a stack of papers not too far from where the piece of electronic gadget sat. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight that flooded the whole room as she tried to get her bearings. She felt so tired. She knew she stayed up the whole night typing away on her laptop because she had a deadline to beat today…

Rukia's eyes widened in realization as her head swiveled towards the wall clock that read 8:25 am.

"Dammit!" Rukia couldn't stop the barrage of curses that came out of her mouth as she straightened up, turning her laptop on as she attempted to arrange her desk at the same time. She apparently sucked at multi-tasking as the papers stacked on her desk flew messily onto the ground of her bedroom while her laptop took a reaaaaally long time to boot from its sleep mode. She needed to get this printed and submitted to Ashido by 9 am, because the man had a very important meeting that day, and Yoruichi was away on a trip. This was the first time Rukia crammed like this to beat a deadline, but this story she had just finished was written so carefully, she was actually feeling quite good about it. Plus Ashido said she had gone so much better from when she first started half a year ago. She loaded the papers on her printer and hastily clicked the other documents closed, keeping just one open and then watching as the machine printed her story on the white sheets very, very slowly.

"Come on!" She didn't want to miss her deadline—Ashido had been so considerate of her so far, she was ashamed to disappoint the man even more. Rukia cursed once again as she realized the printer wouldn't print any faster even if she stared unblinkingly at it, so she decided she would just take a bath and brush her teeth so she'd be all set after the thing finished printing her manuscript.

It was 9:15 when Rukia finally made it to the office, out of breath as she ran towards Ashido's office. She absently waved and returned the greetings of her co-workers as she sped past them, finally arriving at the door of her editor's office. She leaned against the door for a moment, taking huge intakes of air to regain control of her breathing. She crossed her fingers, hoping against hope that Ashido was still inside.

It was too late for Rukia to react when she realized the door she was leaning onto was opening, thus leaving her with no support. On reflex, she put her arms out to catch herself from the imminent fall, the envelope containing her manuscript falling to the ground, everything going in slow motion before she closed her eyes and felt something…hard, but not ground-hard. The feel of warm arms encircling her made Rukia open her violet eyes as she gazed up and saw a concerned Ashido looking right at her.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Rukia blinked dumbly, before smiling in relief. "You're still here!"

"I was waiting for you. I was worried when you didn't answer my call earlier."

"Oh," Rukia bit her lip. "I…Well I kind of overslept. I'm sorry." She looked away in shame, subconsciously stepping out of the man's grasp.

Ashido smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it. I know you've been working hard lately. Come on, let's go see what you got here." He leaned down and picked up the fallen envelope, walking back into his office as Rukia followed after him.

He sat in his comfy leather chair as he opened the envelope and fished out the papers in it, quickly scanning the handwritten title page and flipping the leaf, his brows burrowing in confusion.

Rukia observed his reactions as her fingers drummed over the table noiselessly, nervous about what he would say.

Ashido flipped another page and still looked confused. "The ideas are…jumpy. Is this a draft?"

Rukia immediately shot out of her chair, looking over the papers Ashido was reading. She read through the paragraphs, realizing that the ideas were, in fact, not in chronological order, suspiciously resembling the draft of ideas she did before she arranged the random thoughts and wrote the entire story.

"Dammit!" Rukia groaned in defeat and shame as she sat back in her chair. "I'm so, so sorry! It's at home, I swear I finished it last night!" She was mentally cursing herself for being so stupid. 'I will never, ever, EVER give my documents almost identical filenames…EVER!'

A low chuckle caught Rukia's attention. She looked over at her editor who had his arms on his table, hands intertwined as he smiled nonchalantly at the dejected woman.

"Hey, don't worry about it. We still have time to get your real story. Reading the ideas, I just know it's something good."

Rukia's eyes lit up. "Really? But…don't you have a really important meeting to go to today?"

Ashido shrugged. "They just have to wait for when I'm free." He reached over the phone and pressed his secretary's number. "Cancel all the meetings I have for today."

Rukia flushed in embarrassment. This man was going to such great lengths to help her.

Ashido stood up and got his keys. "Well, let's go to your place, shall we?"

* * *

Rukia ran towards her room to retrieve her laptop as Ashido observed the apartment. He peered at the room Rukia ran into, seeing her leaning over a desk, presumably waiting for her laptop to boot. He made his way over to the door, not wanting to intrude on her personal space, but curious as to what her bedroom looked like.

What welcomed him was the dominant color of the room. Not the white walls, not even the wooden furniture. But the color orange. And the face of a man.

"So this is where you brought all that stuff you've been buying recently. Big fan, huh?"

Rukia was startled by the proximity of Ashido's voice as she turned around to find him observing the posters on her walls and the CD's on her rack. She hastily but discreetly took the framed photo of her and Ichigo from her desk and placed it inside her drawer as she laughed nervously. "Uhm…yes?" she answered unsurely, cold sweat beads forming on her forehead as she eyed the wedding picture on the wall beside the open door, facing the bed.

"But anyway, here it is." Rukia lifted her laptop and motioned towards the receiving area. "Let's go to the living room. You want some juice or anything?" She asked, distracting him from further inspecting her room.

"Just water, thank you." Ashido replied, stepping out of the room.

Rukia mentally sighed in relief that he didn't seem to see what was behind the open door of her bedroom. She hated to think that she'd have to remove it to prevent any further incidents.

It didn't occur to her that maybe, all she had to do was stop Ashido from coming into her bedroom in the first place.

* * *

"I see. Tell him to give us a call when he's free." Gin Ichimaru dropped the phone and stared at the man sitting in front of him. "Well his secretary called and said he cancelled the meeting for some other extremely important business, so I guess you're free to go."

The man sitting in front of Ichimaru's table nodded and stood up, bowing slightly before walking away to make his way out of the office. His hand was almost on the doorknob when his boss' voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, and Ichigo-kun? I just received a message from GQ Japan. Congratulations on winning GQ Man of the Year."

* * *

**A/N: **GQ Japan Men of the Year Award was won by MatsuJun in 2008 for the HanaDan series. =)

You guys totally get the self-cam part where Shinji was holding the camera and getting funny footages of the whole staff, right? Lots of shows do that, right? XD I hope it wasn't too confusing.

Btw, who totally didn't see Shinji playing Rui coming? XD

So I totally had something exciting planned for this chapter, but if I tried to make it to fit into one single chap, everything would seem forced. I'm not quite comfortable with the little timeskips as it is, and I don't think quickening the pace more would ease the discomfort. Anyhoo, I'm excited about the next chapter! I hope I get around to writing that soon. This is one of the rare times when I actually get excited about something I wrote/will write. I hope you guys share the enthusiasm! XD Anyhoo, thanks for reading and please leave me a review! :D


	9. Chapter 9

So I tried writing this thing a couple of months ago, but my brain refused to cooperate. Work sucks the life out of me, so forgive me for the extremely delayed update. I'm trying, believe me.

I'm not sure everyone got the last part about Ichi's supposed meeting with someone getting cancelled by that someone's secretary. I tried to make it as obvious as I can so there'd be a hint to what will happen in this chapter. XD Anyhoo, the beginning of this chapter will explain it.

And of course, lots of thanks for the reviews I got for the previous chapter! I luuuuuurve you all! (insert big, BIIIIIIIG heart here)

**Hakkuchi!** I still can't get to reply to you (your PM option is blocked). I really liked that bit you said about Ichigo and Rukia still ending up together without making Orihime a bitch, which will prove just how strong their love is for one another. Exactly my thoughts, my friend, very well said!

Oh, and I just finished university (and I'm extremely sad at the thought of leaving T^T), so I should have all the time in the world to write (I should, but I'm not sure I do). I have a really bad sleeping pattern though. You know what, I DON'T have a sleeping pattern! I sleep whenever I can't stay awake any longer, and I thrive on 2-4 hours of sleep for 2 days. It's disrupting my thought process really bad, but I can't help it. I just find myself awake most of the time.

So anyhoo, enough blabbering from me. We'll pick up from where we left off in the previous chap (half a year since the separation). You remember me saying I was excited about this chapter right? I reeeeeaaaally hope you feel the same after reading it. XD

Dedicated to **Kuchiki-4-Kurosaki,** because the sad face on the review you sent me last week made me want to update so bad.

PS Bleach episode 342 (the goodbye episode) is sooo heartbreakingly beautiful that I ACTUALLY cried. The whole episode was total fanservice, but I loved ALL OF IT. T^T This update is in commemoration of the IchiRuki (Bleach 10th anniv) tribute in the ending credits of episode 342.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. **Raining **is a song by the Korean rock band, **FT Island.**

* * *

Ichigo sighed as he clicked the phone shut. He combed his fingers through his bright orange locks, wet from the hot shower he was having until the incessant ringing of the phone disrupted him. He just got off a call from his boss who had asked him to come to the office immediately, because the writer of his latest movie offer wanted to personally meet him. He drew the shower curtains back as he exited, grabbing the fluffy white towel hanging on the holder beside the sink. The mirror above the faucet was already fogged up from the steam, and Ichigo reached out to wipe it off. He looked at his tired reflection, seeing the rings under his eyes and the noticeable growth of his hair, which now reached the bottom of his nape. He chanced a quick glance at the clock on his cell phone. It read 8:23 am.

After a quick deliberation, he grabbed the piece of gadget and dialled a number he had memorized by heart.

It rang. And rang and rang. But his call was left unanswered. He dejectedly pressed the end button, and after seeing that it was 8:25 on his clock, he threw the cell phone away as he walked towards his walk-in closet. He had to be at the office by 9, because the writer was supposed to arrive at 9:30. Fingering the suit jackets lined up in one side of the closet, Ichigo eyed the pants on the other side disinterestedly. He wasn't all that much in the mood to dress up, but seeing as he was supposed to impress the writer-producer of the film proposal, he was sure Ichimaru-san would berate him if he did not choose his clothing wisely. Finally settling on dark blue jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt with prints of gothic black text and a cross, and a black sleeveless vest on top*, Ichigo quickly dressed himself, finishing his get-up with silver accessories and a belt.

Taking just one look in the mirror, Ichigo grabbed his keys and left his empty pad.

* * *

"Here's a copy of the script," Ichimaru Gin said as he handed a folder to the orange-haired man sitting in front of his dark wooden desk. He sent one to the boy a few weeks ago for a quick review, but the silver-haired man was quite sure this boy in front of him didn't read it. It was a big project, because the person who wrote the screenplay—which was also the film's producer—was an established writer not only in Japan, but all over Asia. This would define the boy's image in the movie industry, and hopefully land him bigger projects and larger pay checks.

The young man took the offered folder and quickly scanned the contents of the first page, where the title of the project and the name of the screenplay writer was printed. His brown eyes zoomed in on the name, frowning as he tried to remember where he must have heard it before. 'Why does this name seem so familiar? Where have I heard Kanō Ashido before?' Ichigo mentally cursed himself for being bad with remembering people's names, even when he was still in high school. He gave up with a sigh thinking he must have seen the name in some bookstore or someplace else where the guy's books were sold. He was supposedly a famous writer, anyway.

The ringing of the phone on Ichimaru's desk broke Ichigo's concentration on the folder as his agent picked up the receiver.

"Ichimaru."

Ichigo watched as a slight crease formed in between his agent's brows as the silver-haired man continued conversing with whoever it was at the other end of the line.

"I see. Tell him ta give us a call when he's free." Gin Ichimaru dropped the phone and stared at the man sitting in front of him. "Well his secretary called and said he cancelled the meeting for some other extremely important business, so I guess you're free to go."

The man sitting in front of Ichimaru's table nodded and stood up, bowing slightly before walking away to make his way out of the office. His hand was almost on the doorknob when his boss' voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh, and Ichigo-kun? I just received a message from GQ Japan. Congratulations on winning GQ Man of the Year."

* * *

"Hey! Glad the big star could make it!" There were hoots and cheers in the bar counter where two men sat sipping their drinks, welcoming the arrival of their guest.

Ichigo smiled as he took a seat next to Shinji and asked the bartender for a drink.

"So," Shinji nudged the orange-haired man with a teasing smile, "did you sign the contract for that big movie yet? How was this famous writer guy in person?"

"And this is coming from a famous celebrity," their other companion, Hisagi Shūhei, said. He was also in HanaDan with the other two actors, playing the role of the unrepentant playboy Nishikado Sōjirō.

"What? I've read the guy's books! He has some great stuff. 'Sides, I'm not that famous, unlike this bigshot over here," Shinji pointed towards Ichigo with his thumb. He placed an arm around the orange-haired man's back and patted it playfully. "This man will become a superstar when he makes this project a big hit. Which I'm sure it will be."

Ichigo swatted the arm away with a smile. "The guy didn't show up, actually. Had some important business he had to do so he cancelled on us."

Shinji gave an exaggerated horrified gasp. "No! No, no, no! You say he cancelled on YOU, _the _Kurosaki Ichigo? Oh how horrible this man must be!"

Shūhei and Ichigo laughed at Shinji's antics, shaking their heads at the craziness of their friend.

"Anyway, Ichigo. What do you want to get for your birthday? You know I'm bad at gifts so just tell me what you want and I'll bring it to your party." Shūhei offered, taking a big gulp of his cocktail.

Ichigo sighed at that, scratching the back of his head as he stared at the ceiling. His birthday was coming up in a few days, and he had a big party to celebrate it. He had originally asked Ichimaru to just let him go back home to Karakura and do a small celebration with just his family and friends; he had been devising a plan to get Isshin to invite Rukia as a guest—she was his best friend, after all. But his agent flat out denied his request, stating it had been how he celebrated his birthday the year before. "Big names will be invited ta attend this party. Imagine all the connections ya will be makin'," Ichimaru had said. Ichigo couldn't do anything but concede.

"You don't really have to get me anything, you know," Ichigo replied, finishing his drink and asking for another glass.

"Are you crazy?" Shinji interjected. "What, and make us look bad in front of everyone else for not bringing our buddy anything on his birthday? No way!"

"He didn't really say anything about you Shinji," Shūhei joked. The dark-haired man with a tattoo on his face faced Ichigo. "But no matter how crazy he is, he has a point," he shrugged. "Plus I'd really like to get you a present, I just don't know what. What do you really wish for right now?"

Neither of the two men missed the faraway look in Ichigo's eyes as he stared blankly at the wall behind the bar counter. Shinji snapped his fingers in front of the dazed man's face, bringing him back to the present.

Shinji wore a serious face as he looked at the orange-haired star. "You want to be with your family, don't you?"

Ichigo stared at the glass in front of him, swirling the liquid as he nodded his affirmation.

Shinji looked at Shūhei for support. "It's okay Ichigo. I'm sure Ichimaru-sama will let you see them soon."

The three knew it was a lie, because after Ichigo signs the contract for this new movie, there was no way in hell he was getting any form of reprieve from work, much less a vacation to his hometown.

"Yeah." Ichigo sighed in defeat.

"Cheer up! You know, I'm sure there's gonna be lots of girls at your party! I heard Rangiku-san was invited, as well as Kūkaku-san. And of course, our Hime-chan!" Shinji teased as he continuously nudged Ichigo with his elbow. "Eh, eh. You like that, don't you? You'll find many reasons to enjoy your party."

Ichigo just smiled as he went back to his drink. Shinji was right. Since there was no way he was ever getting out of the party, he might as well just enjoy it, right?

* * *

"See you tomorrow, Ukitake-san!"

Rukia waved goodbye as her co-workers made their way out of the office. It was past 6 pm and she was supposed to be out of work, but she had lots of copyreading to do, and she'd rather finish them now than have them pile up the next day. The latest story she had finished and submitted a few days prior (with a really close call in her own home) was still being reviewed by her editor, but from the looks of it, she did quite well with it compared to all her other works. She was quite anxious at how it would turn out, because frankly, it was embarrassing to not have a single material worth getting published after all the months she had worked for the publishing company.

The opening of a door in the silent room grabbed her attention, and she perked up at seeing Ashido making his way out of his private office. He was inspecting some sort of envelope before he looked up, clearly surprised to see Rukia still at her table, working even after office hours had ended.

"Rukia? What are you still doing here?" Her editor asked, making his way towards the only desk lamp that was on.

"I'm trying to uh…get as much work done as I can. It's not like I have anything important to do when I get home anyway," the raven-haired woman answered, unconsciously cleaning her messy desk from the piles of paper that was scattered all over it.

"I see. Still, you shouldn't stay behind for that. You know what, why don't you close that file you're working on and let's go have dinner. We can discuss your manuscript there."

At hearing the word "manuscript", Rukia nodded and hastily arranged the things on her desk, clicking her computer shut before taking her bag and coat, all set to go.

Ashido smiled at how adorable this woman was, with excitement lighting her eyes and a nervous smile playing on her lips. "Ready to go?"

* * *

"And I think one of the main problems of your manuscript is that the main character has some sort of hero complex, wanting to protect everyone and becoming stronger. He'll soon reach a point where he's become so strong he's invincible, and that doesn't sound a very appealing protagonist," Ashido explained, cutting his steak as he discussed the weak points of Rukia's manuscript. "You have to show his human side, that no matter how great he may be, he isn't infallible. That he has conflicts of his own, and that there are problems he cannot solve with his powers. Like for instance, after this whole chapter about him beating the main antagonist, maybe you can make him lose his powers and return to being a human."

Rukia was completely enthralled by Ashido's explanation, admiring his ideas and understanding completely why this man was an accomplished writer. She nodded eagerly as she wrote down notes on her tickler pad beside her still full plate. While she was doing this, Ashido took the time to observe the woman. Despite the energy she was radiating at the moment, he could tell that Rukia was tired. And it was more than just in the physical sense. The famous writer knew that Rukia had been dealing with a problem she wouldn't share with anyone in the office, and this had been weighing her down for months now. She was thinner, and her violet eyes had dulled somewhat. This woman needed some sort of break where she could just enjoy herself and forget her worries.

Ashido was taken out of his musings when he realized that the woman had stopped writing and was staring in a complete trance at something behind him. His head swivelled towards the thing that caught her attention—the television, which was now playing the latest Hana Yori Dango episode. He totally adored how such simple things could make her smile with that soft look in her eyes. He wanted to be the reason for one of those smiles.

"Hey Rukia?" He asked softly, not wanting to startle her or break her concentration on the television.

"Mm?" Rukia answered absently, still watching as the scenes of the drama played out in front of her eyes.

"You doing anything this weekend? I'm invited to this event and I'm allowed to bring a guest. Would you like to come with me? It could be a good way to relax, you know."

Rukia blinked, trying to process his words. This man was so kind, going out of his way to do nice things for her. She stared at him looking at her with such kind and understanding eyes, knowing she was carrying a burden yet never asking her to tell him what it was. Nevertheless, it didn't deter him from offering his silent support. She didn't have the heart to say no.

"Sure."

Ashido smiled as she turned back to the television, absently fingering the envelope inside his suit.

* * *

Rukia stared at herself in the mirror. She wore a simple black strapless dress that ended just above her knees, and her hair was clipped on the back with just her bang and a few strands of her hair hanging loose. She made sure she looked socially acceptable, if not good, because knowing Ashido, it was going to be a high-profile party and she didn't want to embarrass herself or him by dressing so sloppily. She sighed as she took out her jewelry box and pulled out a long golden necklace with a butterfly pendant—an accessory her caretakers at the orphanage said was the only thing she had with her as a baby. For a reason she couldn't fathom, she felt safe when she wore it, and that was a feeling she was craving for at the moment. She donned the golden necklace as her eyes strayed towards her left ring finger—a simple white gold band with a tiny stone in the middle. She looked in the mirror, surveying how the gold necklace completed her look, and with a heavy sigh, took off the ring—which didn't go well with the necklace—and carefully placed it inside her desk drawer.

Her eyes strayed towards the calendar, where the day's date encircled. It was Ichigo's birthday. Her eyes softened as she looked at her silent phone, waiting for a call that hadn't come.

The ringing of the doorbell alerted her that her companion had arrived, and with one final look in the mirror, Rukia walked towards the door to open it.

Ashido was positively astounded when the door opened, revealing Rukia in all her beauty, innocence and grace radiating off her. He couldn't help but admire how she could look so breathtakingly wonderful wearing such simple clothes everyday at work, and now that she was all dressed up, Ashido could not find words to describe her.

"You look beautiful."

Rukia blinked at Ashido before the words sank in, and she blushed a deep red. "T-thank you."

It was insane how tight this woman's hold was on him. Ashido remembered that time he was called to Yoruichi's office to ask for the progress of his latest book. He had answered positively, much to Yoruichi's delight.

"It seems you have found your inspiration," she had teased him then.

The writer simply smiled at that. Yoruichi had taken out a piece of paper very much familiar to Ashido. It was a poem he wrote and left on his desk, and now it had fallen into the hands of his boss. The beautiful woman had read the poem** to him with a teasing smile.

"_I glanced at her and took my glasses_

_off-they were still singing. They buzzed_

_like a locust on the coffee table and then_

_ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the_

_sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and_

_knew that nails up there took a new grip_

_on whatever they touched. 'I am your own_

_way of looking at things,' she said. 'When_

_you allow me to live with you, every_

_glance at the world around you will be_

_a sort of salvation.' And I took her hand."_

Ashido smiled softly before he laughed. "Didn't anyone tell you it's not nice to steal stuff from people, Yoruichi-san?"

Yoruichi tsked playfully. "If it's yours then it's as good as mine." She grinned widely, "'When I Met My Muse', really, Ashido? I didn't know you can write something as sweet as this."

And looking back as he continued to stare at the beautiful woman in front of him, Ashido could totally understand how he came up with something so romantic.

* * *

The bar where the party was held was abuzz with loud music and so many people than Rukia was willing to count. She could spot a few familiar faces—famous people from the entertainment world, some of which Ashido knew and conversed with. Upon their arrival, Ashido had made rounds inside the place, trying to find people he knew and giving them his hello's and how are you's, and making polite conversation. He had whispered in her ear once that once she becomes a famous writer herself, she'd have to deal with these people too, so might as well get used to the socializing.

She just laughed it off, knowing she'd never reach his status of fame.

And now here she sat, sitting alone at a table after shooing Ashido's concern away and telling him to continue practicing his social niceties. She got tired after going over the room twice, because new people kept coming in.

And now she was on her third glass of champagne, and she was a little sleepy. The loud buzzing of the music inside the bar was hurting her ears, and more so, her head. She downed the glass in one gulp and looked for another waiter to ask for more, when she heard her name being called by Ashido despite the intolerable noise.

"Rukia!"

* * *

Ashido was making his was towards the people he knew. Years of working with famous people as a screenplay writer had taught him how to socialize and be courteous in such events. He was a bit worried about Rukia; he brought her to the party to leave her troubles behind, but it didn't seem like the woman was enjoying herself. But he'd make it up to her. He invited her to this party for a reason. She was the first person on his mind when he received that envelope containing his invitation a few days ago, addressed to Mr. Kanō Ashido and guest. He had a surprise for her, something he was sure would make her so happy. He just had to find a person in particular to set his plans in motion.

"So I heard you have a new project. And it's gonna be big," said a green-haired actress, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck. She had worked once before with Ashido on the successful film adaptation of his book The Forest of the Great Hollow.

"Ah, I'm looking forward to doing it actually," the writer replied, his eyes being caught by a movement of something light-colored in the distance. "Can you excuse me for a moment, Nel-san? I see an old peer."

He left the actress as he made his way through the crowd, following the man that was walking further away.

Ashido saw the man stop in front of a room, and before he could open the door, the writer called out, "Ichimaru-san!"

Ichigo sat in a private room celebrating his birthday with some of his closest friends while the others were outside, enjoying the music and the socializing.

He downed his beer as his guests chatted with each other happily, his brown eyes surveying his surroundings. Most of the people outside the door were famous persons he barely knew, and Ichimaru invited them for him to meet. He just didn't have the energy to start the task. He was sure Ichimaru would come looking for him soon and demand he meet the guests. _All of them._

He took another swig of his beer as he felt the chair next to him move. His eyes followed the hand that moved the chair and saw his fellow HanaDan star and friend, Inoue Orihime smiling brightly at him.

"Happy birthday, Kurosaki-kun!" She handed him a small package of what he guessed was expensive perfume before sitting down beside him. "I hope you like it! I picked it myself, Kurosaki-kun!"

Ichigo smiled and thanked the woman for her efforts, placing the gift bag on the table beside him, where all the other gifts sat quietly, waiting to be opened.

Inoue sadly eyed her gift as it was swallowed by all the other huge presents the actor received from their friends. She was hoping he'd open her gift and try it on. She liked the smell of the perfume and thought it suited him perfectly.

A knock on the door interrupted all on-going conversations as Ichigo's agent entered the small room, a maroon-haired man in tow.

"Ichigo-kun, I'd like you to meet a very important person. Come and talk with us."

* * *

Ichimaru soon left Ichigo to his own devices, telling the young man he'd have to entertain all the other guests as he spoke with this important person. So far, they have awkwardly talked about their upcoming project together and had verbally agreed that it _will_ be done.

A few moments of awkward silence as both men looked somewhere else but on each other, Ichigo was finally at his wits' end. He scratched the back of his head as he tried to come up with an excuse to go back to his private room.

"Look, Kanō-san—"

"Kurosaki-san, I hope you don't think me aggressive, but I need a favor from you." The writer interrupted, his gray eyes eagerly scanning the crowd.

Ichigo blinked at that. What could this guy need from him. "Eh…sure, what is it?"

To Ichigo's surprise, the maroon-haired man looked at him straight in the eyes. "Well, this friend of mine is a huge fan of yours, and she's been feeling down lately. I'd like to ask you to come meet her. I'm sure it will cheer her up."

Ichigo mentally sighed. Great, a fanmeet. Not that Ichigo wasn't grateful to his fans or to this man, but really, on his birthday—on his own party? This was such a sly scheme, to be honest.

"Yeah sure, take me to her."

The two men made their way through the buzzing crowd, trying to locate Ashido's friend. Ichigo just wanted to get this over with so he can go back to his private room in peace and spend the rest of the night with his friends. He lazily scanned the faces of the people he walked past, mentally creating a checklist of whom he should come and greet after this thing with the writer's friend was over.

He felt Ashido stop walking as he scanned the tables and stopped at one in particular. On it was a lone figure sitting quietly with her back to them, drinking champagne by herself in a dark corner of the bar. Ichigo couldn't help but feel just as lonely as this figure in his own party—he wanted nothing more than to be out of it, perhaps just as much as this lonely woman.

Ashido turned to look at him with a bright smile. "That's her." The intensity of his smile threw Ichigo out of his tracks. From the serious writer he made himself out to be just a few moments prior, it was surprising to find Ashido…almost excited? Ichigo couldn't find the perfect word, but he knew that Ashido was glad to be making this favor for the woman sipping her drink. Standing a little ways behind the writer, Ichigo waited for Ashido to call out his friend.

And his brown eyes widened when he heard the name come out of the writer's lips.

"Rukia!"

And as if in slow motion, the woman turned her head to regard whoever it was that called her name, only to find the shock of her night.

"Surprise." Ashido said, waving a hand towards Ichigo's direction.

And he couldn't be any more right.

* * *

*I'm sure you've seen the Ichigo get-up I tried (and probably failed) to describe at the beginning of this chap, but here's a link just in case (remove spaces): www . mjlanime . com / index . php ? main_page=popup_image&pID=211&zenid=br0b5b4dm2vpadsrov1qpurm82

**When I met my muse by William Stafford

Soooooo. Didi ANYONE SEE THAT COMING? (Like way before it happened. I'm sure it was a dead giveaway in the middle of this chap XD). I hope you liked that little twist. Eeeeeep it got me excited. XD I hated this chapter, to be honest, because I felt like things didn't come out as I had planned. Please review and tell me which I should change/what I should have done instead, because I am considering re-writing this entire chapter when I find the energy.

By the way, is anyone interested in becoming a consultant of sorts? I've been writing this oneshot for like…8 months, and I can't get to finish it because I'm stuck right smack in the middle. I have the introduction and the ending written out, just the middle part is missing. And I need other people to brainstorm with. If you wanna help me out, please send me a message. I could reeeeeaaaally use it. :3

So anyway, short update, but an update nonetheless. Hope you somehow liked it. Please tell me what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

Hello everyone! I'm sorry this update took so long again.

THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who has been reading this story! I dedicate this chapter to **Abigail Riley**, because I received the review you sent me right as I was writing an extremely long explanation as to why I want to stop writing (which was merely a few hours ago). I have started having doubts about this fic, and almost gave up writing altogether, but receiving that tiny bit of encouragement at_ THAT EXACT MOMENT _felt like a sign sent from the heavens. I'm not much of a superstitious/religious person, but I firmly believe that there must have been a reason I received your review as I was finishing saying "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore." And holding onto that sign, I was finally able to write this chapter.

So we'll pick up exactly where we left off in chapter 8. Some bittersweet humor and drama somewhere there. I do hope this isn't this fic's last hurrah.

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: **Have you guys heard of Mandy Moore's cover of Rihanna's "Umbrella"? You know, the slow, popballad-ish (I have no idea what I'm talking about—music genre is not my strongest suit) version? Well when that song comes up in this story, imagine Mandy Moore's overly sweet voice (I have nothing against Mandy Moore by the way, but the cover really is a little bit too dramatic for my tastes). youtube . com/watch?v=BMB6YOWzQMY

Short update. My grammar is still poor, so please forgive my errors. English is not my native tongue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. **Raining **is a song by the Korean rock band, **FT Island. **The original** Umbrella **song is not mine**,** and I do not own the **Mandy Moore **version either.

* * *

Ashido turned to look at him with a bright smile. "That's her." The intensity of his smile threw Ichigo out of his tracks. From the serious writer he made himself out to be just a few moments prior, it was surprising to find Ashido…almost excited? Ichigo couldn't find the perfect word, but he knew that Ashido was glad to be making this favor for the woman sipping her drink. Standing a little ways behind the writer, Ichigo waited for Ashido to call out his friend.

And his brown eyes widened when he heard the name come out of the writer's lips.

"Rukia!"

And as if in slow motion, the woman turned her head to regard whoever it was that called her name, only to find the shock of her night.

"Surprise." Ashido said, waving a hand towards Ichigo's direction.

And he couldn't be any more right.

* * *

The raven-haired woman stood stock-still as her mind tried to comprehend just what on Earth was happening in front of her very eyes. She wanted to blink just to make sure she wasn't imagining things, but she found that her violet eyes refused the command. The slight pain on her palms as her fingernails dug deeper inside her closed fists told her that she was most definitely not dreaming. _He_ was there, truly there, standing just beside her editor, wearing a similarly shocked expression on his face as she perhaps did.

He with his bright orange tufts of hair styled in its usual adorable spikes, wearing a slim-fitting white suit jacket, black dress shirt and pants, and polished black shoes, looking more gorgeous than she had ever seen him in her entire life. He looked every inch the celebrity he was. For a moment, time stood still as their eyes met—as if it were just the two of them standing there, and all was right with the world. Her mind was working overdrive, trying to put into words what was happening. She guessed it was the writer in her wanting to capture this much unexpected and most shocking occurrence in words like she would a scene in her manuscripts. She had to admit, it did sound like an act straight from a cheesy romance novel. Hmm, or probably, a shōjo manga. And as seconds continued to tick by, her mind started mentally writing the next scene. How would this turn out?

In the shōjo manga genre, scenes like this would probably end up with the male protagonist blowing up and screaming his lungs out in a comic display of uninhibited surprise, with a forefinger pointing dramatically at the female protagonist saying something along the lines of "You! What are you doing here? A-a-and with this guy?", followed by a mumbling of his jealous rants while a dark, brooding cloud hovered. The other guy would flinch and smile nervously upon finding out that the famous celebrity his little friend idolized actually knew the woman personally, and question marks will be all over his head, as he tries to decipher what was going on. Who? What? When? Where? Why? How? And she, as the heroine of this little scene, would either cry waterfalls or float in the air with hearts and flowers in the background as she tried to reach her love. It would end in a sweet embrace and a kiss as they profess their undying love for each other.

A Jdrama version would probably be like this: the camera would focus on the arrival of the two men, successfully catching the surprised look on the orange-haired actor's face. The camera would move and zoom in on the same shocked expression on the woman's face as her jaw slackens, staring all the while with utter disbelief at the men before her. The actress would shakily lift a hand as she points a forefinger at her supposed lover standing beside her boss, while her gaping lips would try to mumble her next lines. "W-w-what?" The camera would pan out so that the entire scene could be caught, and then circle the characters to catch the scene from every possible angle, as an upbeat music with foreboding undertones plays in the background as the scene freezes, signalling the end of that episode. She could hear the audience groan across from their televisions as the credits rolled.

But because Rukia was neither the protagonist in a shōjo manga or an actress in a soap opera, she couldn't expect any of her scenarios to take place. Instead, she was brought out of her reverie by a firm handshake.

And then she heard a voice say, "Hi Rukia-san, it's nice to meet you."

* * *

Ichigo's mind was running a mile per minute.

What was she doing in this party? Did she not think it was dangerous to be seen together? What if they were caught? Who was this man she came to the party with? Why was she with him? Why did she look so stunning in that dress? Did she know how gorgeous she looked? How could he keep his hands to himself with her looking as breathtakingly beautiful as she was? How was she doing? Did she miss him? How often did she think of him? How long has it been since he last saw her? Why did they stop seeing each other?

And that last thought made his blood run cold.

_What if Ichimaru saw them?_

That alone brought Ichigo out of his excited but confused musings and his mind brought back his first question to the forefront. _What was she doing in this party?_

His bafflement must have been apparent on his face as he turned to regard the maroon-haired writer standing beside him. By the small chuckle the writer gave him, Ichigo surmised that Kanō-san probably interpreted his confusion to be about the reaction of his little friend. Because across from them, Rukia still stood frozen and wide-eyed.

"Sorry, Kurosaki-san. She's a big fan, and this might be a huge shock to her," Kanō-san said with another polite chuckle as he gestured to the woman with a hand. "This is Ukitake Rukia, she's a new writer under my wing. Rukia, this is Kurosaki Ichigo."

The petite woman showed no signs of recognition to the introduction, but the tense atmosphere prompted Ichigo to initiate interaction. He took slow but deliberate steps towards the woman with a lost look on her face—and knowing her, the daydreaming and imagining would probably go on if no one took action—and grabbed her hand.

"Hi Rukia-san, it's nice to meet you," Ichigo greeted in the way he was wont to do when meeting his fans. He saw emotions flicker within the violet orbs he stared intently at as they lost their glassy, faraway look. His chest ached when, as the happiness faded in her eyes at his words, hurt was very apparent. It lasted but a mere second before a fake adoring smile was plastered on her lips.

"Rain! T-this is such a surprise! It's so nice to finally meet you!" Both of them cringed at her high-pitched voice as she gushed about how great he was and how big of a fan she was, and how she was so ashamed for acting like a schoolgirl.

A weight on her shoulders stopped Rukia from sputtering nonsense as she instantly closed her mouth, eyes travelling from her husband, who looked the part of an embarrassed celebrity being bombarded with questions and adoration by a very enthusiastic fan, to her boss who had draped his arm around her back.

"Rukia, it's Kurosaki-san's birthday today," Ashido muttered, amused.

The raven-haired woman—oh how proud Ichigo was of her superb acting skills—gaped like a fish as she greeted Ichigo with a very loud "Happy birthday!" But Ichigo could see how, despite having been forced to greet him, the warmth in her eyes reflected the sincerity of her words.

His brown eyes flickered from hers to the man whose arm was still on her shoulders. Rukia caught the slight narrowing of her husband's eyes as he seemingly fought an inner battle, deciding what to do to the offending appendage around her body. Before damage could be done to her boss—or worse, before Ichigo could blow their cover—she took a step forward, seizing Ichigo's hand in another eager handshake under the pretense of excitement, effectively removing Ashido's arm around her.

"I wish you all the best in life...Ichigo_-san_."

And there was nothing more Ichigo wanted to do at that very moment but to enclose his wife in a warm embrace and never let go. His reputation, his company, his boss all be damned. But he couldn't, and it pained him so to just stand there looking at her, being this close to her for the first time in so many months. He bit his tongue to prevent him from saying anything that would cause suspicion as he nodded and said with utmost sincerity, "I'm glad you made it to my birthday."

* * *

Ichimaru Gin forced a chuckle as his colleagues joked around, boasting of their accomplishments as the boss od his bosses—the current President of the TV station—watched on uninterestedly. Gin hated the man, because he was sure the threat of the famous talent scout's removal from the company was this man's idea. But he still had to act in a well-mannered way in front of this man. The invitation to this party was extended to this man purely because Ichimaru Gin felt compelled to. Having a celebration this big and not inviting the _big boss _was an insult, and Ichimaru Gin was not in a position to insult this man.

And Gin was sure, this man came to this party out of courtesy above anything else. There probably was nothing else, anyway.

The silver-haired man continued to observe his boss from the corner of his eyes even as he continued to chuckle at whatever his stupid bird-brained associates were talking about. He took a gulp of the drink in his hand as he scanned the place. Lots of big-named celebrities Ichigo have worked with in the past, and a lot of whom looked interested in working with the boy mingled with each other, fake-laughing and smiling with a ridiculous amount of sweetness at their fellow celebrities as they sipped their wine. Gin took a champagne flute from a passing waiter's tray as he put his empty brandy glass down, continuing his lazy scan of the area before getting distracted as the man he loathed stood from his seat.

The chattering around him immediately ceased as all eyes turned towards the stoic man.

"I shall take my leave."

And that was all that needed to be said before the man—the president of Nippon TV, Kuchiki Byakuya—walked away, without any kind of regard to the goodbyes thrown his way by his suck-up subordinates.

* * *

Rukia looked at her reflection in the mirror, repeatedly slapping herself on the cheek to make sure she was not dreaming.

She just left the table where Ichigo and Ashido continued to converse about their upcoming project. She could tell Ichigo was very distracted as he tried his hardest to answer Ashido's questions. The orange-haired man kept his gaze forward, but Rukia could see him looking at her from the corner of his eyes even as he nodded and talked with the famous writer. There was a hidden question in his gaze, one he could not mutter because of the presence of her boss. Rukia was increasingly getting frustrated at the situation, wanting nothing more but to spend even a few minutes with her husband on his own birthday in private. But the place was jam-packed with famous actors and performers, writers, producers, directors, and most importantly, media men. They could not risk running off to who-knows-where, only to find out they were the next day's headline. The frustration prompted her to excuse herself to go to the ladies' room.

She closed her eyes as she took in several deep breaths, composing herself. She wasn't Ichigo's wife to these people, but she still had to act like a proper lady because she was Ashido's protégé. She practiced a smile before finally getting the courage to come out of the ladies' room. The comfort room was far too bright compared to the dim lights of the bar, so her eyes took some time adjusting to the darkness. She tried to wiggle her way back to the table amidst the crowd, but found her vision blackening completely as she slowly fell to the ground. She blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what happened when a hand suddenly appeared in front of her face. It was then that she realized she had bumped into someone—a man wearing a black suit, shiny shoes, and with long black hair. He looked like a _very_ important man. A red-haired chap beside him—who looked nowhere near as graceful as the black-haired man, and Rukia immediately deduced was his assistant—offered his hand to help her up. She took it gratefully before bowing in apology to the long-haired man.

"I'm sorry for running into you, sir. I couldn't see quite clearly in the dark."

With her vision finally adjusting to the dimness, Rukia stood straight to regard the man who looked at her with haunting grey eyes. She began to feel nervous as the man remained silent while he continued to examine her.

'Please, please don't let him make a scene,' Rukia found herself hoping fervently. She averted her eyes to the ground as she waited for him to dismiss her, by the second growing more and more panicky. She saw his shiny shoes take one, two steps to get a whole lot closer to her, and she instinctively took a step back, raising her violet eyes back to his grey ones.

There was no inflection in his cold voice when he finally decided to talk to the woman who was scared out of her wits. "What is your name?"

Rukia's eyes widened at the inquiry and fearfully blurted out, "Kurosaki Rukia, sir!"

She thought belatedly of the bomb she had just dropped.

_Oh shit._

Grey eyes narrowed as they travelled from head to toe, making Rukia feel insecure.

"I see."

And much to her relief, the man walked away without another word. Her eyes followed his retreating figure until he was swallowed by the crowd, all the while mentally berating herself for her carelessness.

And she couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that remained.

* * *

Ichigo was playing around a memory inside his head. When Ichimaru-san told him about the project with this writer, Ichigo just knew that he had heard of the name Kanō Ashido before. And not as a writer, because he sure as hell have never read a book written by this guy. He was, after all, smitten mostly with foreign literature, specially Shakespeare.

And now finally he remembered that day oh so long ago, when he came to visit his wife.

...

_Ichigo looked at the clock on the wall. It read 4:15 pm. It was still fairly early. The bed creaked as he slowly got off, taking his discarded pants off the floor and putting them on. His brown eyes roamed the room, taking note of the changes in it, focusing on one in particular, which was the large framed picture hanging in the wall right in front of the bed. He eyed the picture of him and his wife, both wearing white because she had insisted on it, with large genuine smiles on their lips as they stared at each other, instead of at the camera even as the photographer insisted. They just couldn't keep their eyes (and hands) off each other that day._

_His thoughts were startled by the distant ringing of the phone in the living room. He chanced a quick glance at Rukia to check if the woman's sleep was disturbed, and after seeing her calm breathing, he distractedly made his way out of the bedroom, walking towards the phone. The thing continued to ring, and without further thought of how it was a big risk to answer Rukia's calls (who could it be anyway? His dad? Yuzu? Karin? Their friends? People who already knew about them?), Ichigo lifted the phone._

_"Hello?"_

_There was silence on the other end of the line, before a hesitant "Is this Rukia's phone?" was heard from the caller._

_Ichigo blinked a few times, trying to place the voice in his head. Nope. He didn't know this person…this __guy.__ "Yeah, w-who is this?"_

_The orange-haired man heard shuffling noises before the caller cleared his throat, sounding more certain of himself now. "This is Kanō Ashido, her editor."_

...

That gave him little to no relief about the situation of his wife. His brown eyes narrowed as he took a big gulp of his drink, pretending to listen to Kanō as he described in detail how he wanted his character portrayed in the film. The guy obviously felt something for his wife, and this made Ichigo more than uneasy. This guy knew Rukia had a boyfriend, but it was glaringly apparent to Ichigo that the writer took the extremely long absence of Rukia's so-called boyfriend as a sign of a rocky relationship, or probably even a break-up, and saw this as an opportunity to woo the woman.

Well excuse him, but Kurosaki Ichigo wouldn't let anyone steal his wife away.

Where was Rukia anyway? She was taking an extremely long time in the comfort room. Was she okay? He cleared his throat, preparing an excuse to leave the table before a hand on his head stopped him dead in his tracks.

"ICHIGO!"

Ichigo worriedly turned his head to the source of the voice and came face-to-face with an extremely close Shihōin Yoruichi.

"Yo." The dark-skinned woman had a big grin on her face as she ruffled Ichigo's styled hair without concern. "Happy birthday, Ichigo! Look at you, all grown-up now!"

"Ah, Shihōin-san," Ichigo heard the greeting from across him and saw Kanō standing up from his seat and bowing to the woman.

"Kanō! I see you two have met, then. Discussing your precious movie, aren't you?"

Ichigo's panicked gaze went from person to person as Yoruichi and Kanō exchanged words, hoping against hope that Rukia wouldn't show up just yet. He was so sure Kanō didn't know it was Ichigo who introduced Rukia to the publishing company. But imagine how stupid Kanō would look like when he finds out Ichigo knew the woman he had introduced to the orange-haired singer. Ah, what he would give just to see the face Kanō would make.

"Great party you're having here, huh Kurosaki?" Yoruichi commented as she scanned the place. "Is Isshin here?"

Ichigo blinked repeatedly. "Ah, no. But I plan to visit them one of these days."

"Tch. Kid grows up and becomes a big shot and suddenly he forgets his family. That isn't very nice, Ichigo," Yoruichi teased. The words hit straight home and pierced Ichigo's heart despite the playful tone of its delivery.

"Oh, by the way Ashido, did you bring the girl with you?" There was no question in Ichigo's mind that Yoruichi was talking about Rukia. "I'm sure this kid would love to see Uki—"

"Ah Yoruichi-san, I'm glad you made it tonight. And I see Ichigo-kun and Kanō-san are having a wonderful conversation, yes?"

Ichigo's heart almost stopped at the impeccable timing of his unexpected savior—though he probably wasn't even aware of the conversation he was interrupting—Ichimaru Gin.

Ichigo, despite his whelming relief, saw the small drop in Yoruichi's grin as she turned towards the newcomer to their table.

"Ichimaru."

The silver-haired man grinned widely as he shook the hand of the yellow-eyed woman. "I hope you enjoy the night. Unfortunately, I have to excuse Ichigo-san, as a small program is about to start for his birthday celebration."

"Of course, Ichimaru-san. It was nice meeting you today, Kurosaki-san. I'm looking forward to the coming months of working with you." Kanō shook hands with orange-haired man and his silver-haired handler as Ichigo answered with a grunt and a nod before finally leaving the cursed table.

* * *

Rukia released the breath she had been holding as she saw Ichigo and Ichimaru walk away from the table. She had come upon the scene as she made her way back after bumping into the weird and scarily stoic man. To her horror, not only was her boss' boss there, but her husband's boss was also on the same table!

One wrong word from any of them and everything would all come tumbling down.

Before she could make her way back to the table, all lights were turned off which promptly ceased all conversations.

The silence was broken when a keyboard started playing. Suddenly, a spotlight turned on, focused on a mini-stage where the pianist and his instrument sat beside a man playing an acoustic guitar. At the center of the stage, sitting on a high stool, was a gorgeous woman with caramel-hair, whose lips slowly neared the microphone. With her sweet, melodious voice, she sang.

_You had my heart, and we'll never be worlds apart_

_Maybe in magazines, but you'll still be my star_

There was loud applause as the crowd finally registered that it was Inoue Orihime singing._ For Kurosaki Ichigo._

_When the sun shines we'll shine together_

_Told you I'll be here forever_

_Said I'd always be your friend, took an oath_

_Imma stick it out 'till the end_

_Now that it's raining more than ever_

_Know that we'll still have each other_

_You can stand under my umbrella_

_You can stand under my umbrella_

From her place by the wall, Rukia could see how the people were entranced by the performance. There were smiles on their faces as they mouthed the lyrics to the foreign song in time with the singer.

The singer. Inoue Orihime. Rukia could see how her eyes would drift towards a particular part of the audience where the orange-haired birthday celebrant and—to everyone's knowledge—subject of her song, sat quietly.

_You can run into my arms, that's okay don't be alarmed_

_Come into me (There's no distance in between our love)_

_So go on and let the rain pour, I'll be all you need and more_

Rukia's fist clenched subconsciously as she stared at the woman who was smiling sweetly as she neared the end of the song. For most people, it was but a love song from a woman pledging her loyalty to the man she liked. But anyone who knew Ichigo deeper knew the significance of rain in his life. Which led to but one thing.

For the caramel-haired woman to want to be his shield from the rain, Inoue Orihime must know Ichigo on a level deeper than everyone else in the room.

Except Rukia. Oh Rukia hoped so, and she hoped hard.

_It's raining_

_Ooh baby its raining_

_Come into me, come into me._

* * *

Ah, that was quite a lot of characters to focus on in a single chapter. I hope everything was comprehensible. Didn't quite achieve the jealous!Ichi I was aiming for.

So, the first part was a little tour into the mind of a writer. I made all that up because I'm no writer, but you know, I thought it'd…fit. I don't know if anyone saw the Byakuya thing coming, but I have already hinted about the stoic man in a previous chapter (IF I remember correctly, I have forgotten the previous chapters already). Some of the major plot points are finally unravelling. Rukia's interaction with Byakuya was how I always thought their relationship was before they became much closer as siblings in the series.

If I get around to writing it, the next chapter is probably where the story will pick up its pace.

By the way, if any of you are looking for angst-y stories, you might want to check out my latest oneshot, **Till death do we meet again.** Don't expect happy ever afters though.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas (if you celebrate it) and a Happy New Year, because I am sure I won't be able to update again before then. Thank you for reading.


	11. Chapter 11

Okay, this update wasn't planned, but I felt the need to give you guys something—anything, really—because this fic is moving annoyingly slow, and I hate myself for making you wait so long for updates. As some of you might know by now, I have started actively looking for a job, so writing fanfiction took a backseat.

I'm warning you now that this isn't my best chapter. While I was writing this, I felt a certain shift in the tone/atmosphere of the story. I don't know if it's just me, but if anyone else notices anything different with my writing, please feel free to point it out. Anyhoo, short chap. Basically just a setting-up of more major plot points that will continue to unravel in the next few chaps. I originally planned this story to be long, but seeing as I can hardly find time as it is to update, I revised the outline to fit a 15-chap story, give or take a few chapters. So that means we're almost there, ne? You'll probably be glad to know that I scrapped the original dramatic ending for a happier one. But I guess we'll have to wait and see which one I'll use when we get there, no? :)

Thanks so much for the reviews!

**Voidy! **I haven't talked to you in forever! I haven't been on BA in months! I have no other means of contacting you but here. Thank you for the continued support!

I'd like to thank **Kuchiki-4-Kurosaki** for reminding me that I haven't updated in such a long time. I tend to lose track of time, I really do.

Sad to say the drama isn't over, my dears. And speaking of drama, someone told me this fic has won second place in a poll for best IchiRuki Drama fic. It's over on ichirukilove (dot) wordpress (dot)com. Well thank you to everyone who participated in it! :D

**Important note: **If you haven't, I suggest listening to Sunset Swish's **Sakurabito. **It's one of those achingly beautiful Bleach EDs that accurately define IchiRuki. It will be one of Ichigo's songs in this . com /watch?v=3WkRxoecMLQ

If it helps, Kaien's Japanese voice actor sings it for the Bleach Concept Covers, so you can listen to that version if you like. :) I'm frustrated that I can't make Rukia sing in this story (hmmm or can I? haha), else I would have made her sing Aimer's Re:Pray. It so fits Ichigo and Rukia, don't you think?

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own Bleach. **Raining**is a song by the Korean rock band, **FT Island.**

* * *

Rukia's eyes darted around wildly as she scanned the area, her heart beating rapidly as she was forcefully pushed toward a vacant room. Her first thought was, _did anyone see her being dragged away?_ Her nerves were rapidly fraying, and before she even knew it, her back met the wall and the distinct click of the door's lock reverberated inside the dimly-lit room. She wasn't given a chance to utter one word of protest as a pair of lips descended upon hers, meeting her in a surprisingly passionate kiss.

Instinctively, her hand went to the man's well-built chest, fisting on his shirt as she tried to push him away; a few moments into the kiss and she found herself melting and pulling the man closer instead. Rukia felt hands gently caressing her facial features, fingers burying themselves in her soft raven hair to keep her close, an arm wrapping itself tightly around her waist. Her own tiny hands reached for the man's jaw, finally being allowed to pull away from the searing kiss in order to catch her breath, her forehead attached to his. She closed her eyes as she panted heavily, hearing the man holding her chuckle in amusement as he showered her face with gentle pecks. The man's lips landed on her cheeks, her brow, her neck, her ears—his nose inhaling the scent of her hair as he pulled her closer to his body, his other hand entwining with one of hers.

"Baka," Rukia whispered affectionately, afraid that any louder and the moment would be ruined. "What if someone saw us?"

Ichigo smiled warmly as his brown eyes stared into the depths of her violets. "It's your fault, you know. I can't think straight knowing you're a few feet away, watching as I try to make a fool of myself by pretending to be someone I'm not—in front of a billion cameras at that."

Rukia smiled back, combing her fingers through his orange locks as he leaned his head on her shoulder, despite the height difference. "You were so great out there. I'm so glad to be able to see you do your job in person."

That statement sent a twinge in Ichigo's chest as he cradled his wife's head closer to his chest, nuzzling the crown of her hair. It was the second week of shooting for his new movie, and Kanō Ashido being both the film's producer and screenplay writer had been very actively keeping tabs on its progress. It was a double-edged sword. The up-side to this was that Kanō would always -ALWAYS- bring Rukia with him. The down-side was that Ichigo always had to see and deal with Kanō, whom he steadily grew to dislike by the second. But if it meant being in close proximity to his wife, then Ichigo convinced himself that he could somehow live with it.

It was increasingly hard though, trying to tolerate the man who fancied himself as Rukia's knight of some sort, especially during meal time. Kanō Ashdio also seemed to delude himself into believing that Kurosaki Ichigo wanted to become his best friend. The maroon-haired writer would always -ALWAYS- invite Ichigo, Inoue Orihime and the director to eat lunch, or dinner, or breakfast, or whatever meal of the day they could get when the day's shoot was over.

"Think of it as a team-building activity of some sort," Kanō had once explained.

The director was much too happy to oblige, wanting to be on the famous writer's good graces. Who could say if this might result to another collaboration? And Ichigo thought it was all good, actually—speaking with intellectual people in the same industry he was in, being able to pitch in ideas for his own movie. What irked Ichigo in these outings was how he was always -ALWAYS- forced to sit right in front of his own wife and watch as her bastard of a boss doted on her, asking her what she'd like to order, suggesting the restaurant's bestsellers, talking about what she enjoyed most when she watched the shoot—like they were lovers who didn't have company on the same table.

Correct him if Ichigo was wrong, but wasn't this the same guy he spoke with over Rukia's phone some time ago, and whom Ichigo explicitly told that Rukia already had a boyfriend (imagine how shocked that bastard would be if he found out Ichigo was actually the _husband_)?

After a few days of silently enduring this torture, the proverbial linchpin finally came loose that morning, while the two writers quietly watched Ichigo do a scene. It was a picturesque scene, to be honest—Kanō and Rukia stood beneath a tree, seeking shade from the sun's mighty glare, when all of a sudden, a very strong gust of wind came without warning. His wife, being of small stature, was easily knocked off her feet, skidding a couple of feet until she stumbled into the muscular wall that was Kanō's chest. The maroon-haired opportunist had the gall to wrap an arm around the oblivious woman who was busy trying to keep her hair and skirt down as the wind continued to relentlessly blow. As it eventually died down, the show-off plucked a flower that flew by and turned to the raven-haired woman who was trying to pat her hair back into place, sliding the blossom into the hair by her ear as if in a cheesy movie.

Hold on, wasn't Ichigo supposed to be the actor in here? Then why were they—actually, just Kanō; thank goodness for Rukia's naiveté—acting like they were in some sappy romance flick?

His malevolent thoughts must have been so palpable that it prompted some Divine power to act. The director suddenly called for a 15-minute break to rearrange the ruined set, and Kanō had to take an important call. Which meant he was free to do whatever he wanted for about a quarter of an hour. And so was Rukia.

And that was how they found themselves confined inside his dressing room.

Ichigo chuckled once more into Rukia's hair. "No one saw us, trust me. And if anyone did, they'd just assume I'm doing _fan-service_, you know? Or that you were trying to seduce Rain. Everyone seems to know how big of a fan you are."

Rukia stood quietly still in his arms. While she knew Ichigo meant that remark as a light-hearted joke, she couldn't deny that it hit a sensitive spot. Everyone did believe that she was but a big fan of Rain. The staff had been congratulating her for being so lucky and privileged as to get some sort of VIP backstage pass to meet and greet her favorite star on the set of his own movie.

The worst of them all being the girl called Inoue Orihime.

Inoue was such a sweetheart to everyone. She would smile and greet everyone on the set with a jovial smile—even those she didn't really know. She would chat up fans that would drop by the set asking for pictures or her autograph. And Rukia could tell the woman was _not_ faking it. The petite writer would always watch how Inoue would interact with people, and deduced that the caramel-haired woman was genuinely friendly and good-natured. Rukia almost found it hard to find any flaw in the actress.

_Almost._

Because you see, Inoue seemed to enjoy talking with "Rukia-san" in between takes. And guess what her favourite subject was? Why, the great Kurosaki Ichigo, of course! From her perspective, who better to talk with about Rain than Rain's devoted fan? Rukia would always find herself trapped in a conversation about how great Ichigo dressed, or how enticing his voice was, or how romantic his new single was, or how good of a person he truly was. And Rukia would like nothing more than to be able to say, _I should know, I married him!_ And all these conversation led Rukia to one last major conclusion.

Inoue Orihime was in love with Ichigo.

And this thought brought her back to the night of his birthday party, where this same woman dedicated a heartfelt performance for the orange-haired star. And how, totally oblivious to this—or perhaps too burdened with thoughts of his own—Ichigo didn't take much notice of the performance, instead stealing the spotlight himself to sing a song that only one other person in that entire room—Rukia—knew exactly whom it was for.

Rukia could still feel goosebumps on her arms whenever she remembered how the whole room became dead silent as Ichigo settled on the seat by the piano, his fingers gliding over the opening keys of his song.

**yorokobi ga mau haru o omou namida no hane**

_The wings of my tears, yearning for a spring where happiness flutters about  
_

**chiriyuku hanabira tonari anata no moto e to**

_Become scattering flower petals, headed for you_

**kaze ga naru tabi soba ni iru yo tadori tsukeru**

_Whenever you hear the wind, I will be by your side  
_

**kanashimi yori samishi sayori ****mamorubeki wa ima o ikiru anata**

_Protecting you as you live here and now i__s more important than an inconsolable sadness or loneliness_

The raven-haired woman could hear faint "aww's" and feel the suppressed excitement as the crowd became fully entranced with Ichigo's performance. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see a few female guests nudging each other and whispering, pointing their fingers and giggling happily at a certain caramel-haired woman who was smiling widely as she stood there, wonderstruck.

**umare kawattara sakura no shita de mata ai mashou**

**kitto sono toki ni wa waratte eien o chikaou**

_If we can be born again, let's meet underneath the cherry tree_

_I swear that when that time comes, we'll laugh forever_

**aishi aisarete kono inochi wa nemuri de saite**

**iroasenai manazashi o mune ni maichiru negai**

_A life where I love and am loved is budding and blooming_

_That view will never fade, a wish dances in my heart_

**anata ni anata ni anata ni tada aitai**

_For you, for you, for you and I to just be able to meet again_

Rukia tried to block out her surroundings, instead focusing on the man who was pouring his heart into the song.

Unfortunately, Rukia wasn't the only woman in the room who believed that the song was especially for her.

The raven-haired writer hadn't been able to find an opportunity to speak to Ichigo about this issue. But for the moment, her soul could rest having _finally_ been given some stolen time alone with her husband.

* * *

Ichimaru Gin was typing a very important business letter on his computer when a buzz from his telephone caught his attention.

"What is it?" he asked his secretary.

"Kira Izuru-san wishes to speak with you," the voice replied.

The silver-haired man sighed deeply in annoyance as he closed his laptop, setting it aside as he laced his fingers together. "Let him in."

His large oak doors soon opened, revealing a blonde-haired man in an all-black business attire.

"What brings you to my office today, Izuru-kun?"

Izuru Kira kept a solemn face as the only eye not covered by his hair tried to make contact with Ichimaru's, but the silver-haired man remained squinting.

"She's been found. My talent."

Ichimaru merely raised a brow, silently asking him to continue.

"They found her tied and gagged, and bruised all over. She's dead Ichimaru-sama. Hinamori Momo is dead."

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya scanned the data on the documents in front of him one more time. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had his suspicions with just that one glance, but without proof those suspicions were just baseless guesses. Still, amidst the darkness of the room that night, he had a good look at the woman he had bumped into. And that woman looked exactly like _her._

_Her._

Kuchiki Hisana.

His mother.

His fingers ghosted over the paper, as if the information would travel directly from the paper to his fingertips, and then to his brain where it would be saved probably for the rest of his life.

January 14, 1991.

144 cm.

Blood type A.

Kurosaki Rukia.

Ukitake Rukia.

He just had to confirm it one last time. His finger pressed a button on his phone, summoning his secretary into his office.

A tall red-haired man came in, bowing respectfully as he awaited his orders.

"Renji," Kuchiki Byakuya started, focusing on the picture on one of the documents his special agents had procured for him.

"Get me Ukitake Jūshiro. Immediately."

* * *

Okay, so I'm not a big fan of ByakuyaxHisana, actually I'm not a big fan of Hisana, period. And that will become more apparent in the next chapter. I hope no one takes offense that I made her Byakuya's mom instead of his wife.

If there are any inconsistencies in the story, please point them out. I have kind of forgotten some of the smaller details, so I might be unintentionally changing them. I hope not.

Short chapter. Not yet sure when the next one's coming. Keep your fingers crossed that it's soon. Thanks for reading everyone! Have an awesome day, and Happy Valentine's!

**ADDITIONAL A/N: So as some of you already know by now, I have just gotten a job. I started training for a managerial position for a large restaurant chain in my country last Monday, and since this is my first job, I'm trying to dedicate all my time and effort into it. Actually, if I'm honest, I sincerely just do not have enough time to write anymore. I work 6 days a week, 9 hours per day, and my travel time to and from the store accumulates to about 3-4 hours daily. It breaks my heart to say this, but I just may have to put this story on an indefinite hiatus for now. I do hope you guys will continue to stick around in case an update comes. I have a day off for each week, although it changes every now and then so it's hard not having a fixed schedule to get used to. I will probably have a lot more free time after my month and a half of intensive training, during which I'll have to handle my own store. We'll see how this'll go around mid-April.**

**Thank you to everyone who has read the story! The amount of reviews have been steadily decreasing, although I continue to get new alerts. And while I deeply appreciate people simply reading the story, it would really help me become a better writer if you tell me which part of the chapter I did wrong, so I can correct it in the next, instead of just simply subscribing and waiting for an update that may or may not come. I actually want to become a writer in the far, faaaaar future (although to be honest, I'm aiming for a magazine column lol), and I would really appreciate some form of feedback on my writing. I hope you guys understand this.**

**So I shall end this here. I'm keeping my own fingers crossed for an update. Let's hope inspiration strikes hard enough that I can't just shake it off. :)**

**Have an awesome weekend people!**


	12. I'm Alive!

Hey everyone! It has been quite a long time hasn't it? Time flies so fast when you've got lots to do! Anyhoo, I just wanna tell you guys that I am…sorta back. SORTA being the keyword. You see, I have been re-reading the story over the past couple of weeks (months, to be honest), as well as all the loving reviews you have sent me. And all of a sudden, I had this urge to write again. The way you guys have kept faith in me and encouraged me was just so moving. This is why I love reviews—THEY MAKE AN IMPACT on the writers, believe me.

Anyhoo, for a quick update about my life, I'm still in that job I had a little over a year ago (imagine that! It has already been a year!) so I'm still kinda busy. I haven't been keeping tabs on Bleach ever since the anime ended and just pick-up updates from people I know who still reads the manga. The IchiRuki love never dies down, though. I just re-watched the farewell episode a few days ago and felt the rusty cogs in my mind turning. You may not believe this but…the next chapter_ is in the works._

Go ahead and read that again if you think you've misread. *wink*

Yep, it has around a thousand and five hundred words right about now, which is a BIG LEAP compared to my year-long silence, wouldn't you say? :) Let's keep our fingers crossed about this one being finished say…next week, at the latest.

Thank you to everyone who is still keeping tabs on this fic. And hello to all the new people! Can't believe I'm still getting alerts even if this is on hiatus. Thanks everyone, I appreciate all the loooove!

Well that's all I have to say for now. See you guys again soon (hopefully, haha).

Oh PS! If you know how to read Spanish, a kind, kind person posted a Spanish translation of "Rukia for a Day" about a couple of months ago. Go ahead and read it and tell me how it is. Haha can't understand Spanish to save my life. Here ya go: (ffnet) /s/9146547/1/Rukia-por-un-Dia

Muuuuuuch love,

wickedsistah1024


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